comfort, and my intense delight. The month of November had come round, with its fogs, its colds, its white roads, its tarnished bricks, and its blue noses; and as nothing was to be done anywhere in the light of day, the imagination found pleasure in dwelling on the sunny places for which the Royal Tar was bound. I had seen its advertisement. Spain and Gibraltar were two of the temptations held out to those who were anxious to exchange the gloom of England, in the early winter months, for the light and sunshine of the lands washed by the Mediterranean. With such inducements to stir him up, with such prospects before him, who would not be a vagabond in November?
My resolution was quickly taken, and I lost no time in engaging a berth on board the Royal Tar. When I went on board, the decks were all washed; at any rate, they were still wet. The cabin was full of fog, and appeared cheerless and deserted, the servants and officers of the ship being all ashore, engaged doubtless in their own concerns, and making the most of their last night in England with their several friends and acquaintances. I was as yet the only solitary passenger in the ship, having come on board before the usual time. How shall I describe the oppression of that evening? Even now, after the
