the gayety continued until after midnight. Late in the evening, some one tied down the ship's big whistle, and the trouble was not located for five minutes. Members of the crew also got up a grotesque parade, headed by the young man who blows a cornet three times a day to announce when meals are ready. Between quadrilles, the passengers stood at the rail, and looked at the Southern Cross, and found it rather disappointing; near it is a false cross which looks rather better than the genuine. The Southern Cross is seen only in the far South, and down here everything in the heavens is new to Northern eyes. Stars are more numerous than at home, and the night of the dance the heavens were particularly clear, and the sea very smooth. Further on, in South Africa, the nights are said to be so brilliant that it is possible to read comfortably by moonlight. During the dance and concert, the first-class passengers became so well acquainted with those in the second cabin that they now go down to visit them, which they are at liberty to do, although the second-cabin passengers cannot come up on our deck without a special invitation from the captain or purser. Once a week the captain dines in the second cabin. The food is about the same in the two dining-rooms, but our location is amidships, while the second is far aft, and the motion is more pronounced. The difference in fare is considerable, amounting to one-quarter or a third.
One of the most interesting men on board is J. L.
Dwyer, secretary of native affairs in American Samoa,
and chief district judge. He is on his way to Sydney,
