sound is so dreadful at night that I always lie down dressed, ready to show myself in public in case of an explosion. Such misadventures are of everyday occurrence on the Mississippi, and one hears frequently of such also on other rivers and on the lakes of this country. Several of the passengers on board have with them life-preservers, belts or girdles of caoutchouc, to save them in case of danger. I have none; I have here either an intimate acquaintance or friend, who would put forth his hand to me in a moment of danger. But I know not how it is; I feel as if there were no need for fear. Only I am always prepared for a nocturnal “start.”
The captain of the steamer is evidently a prudent general, and all goes on calmly and well. The table is abundant and excellent. The only thing that I feel the want of is milk for coffee and tea; cream is a thing not to be thought of, and is seldom met with anywhere in this country. One must learn to dispense with milk on one's river-voyages in the West and South. I can manage to swallow coffee without milk; but it is almost impossible for me to take tea without it. I made a little complaint about it at tea last evening.
“Well!” said a Colonel Baxter, an excellent man, opposite to me, “we frequently did not taste milk for many weeks together during the Mexican war!”
“Oh!” said I, “but then you had glory to console yourselves with. What cannot people dispense with when they have that! But here in a steam-boat, without glory and without milk! it is too much!”
They laughed, and this morning we had plenty of milk to breakfast.
The greater number of the attendants are negroes. The stewardess is a mulatto, neither agreeable nor good-tempered. There are not many passengers in the better part of the vessel, and by no means disagreeable. The gentlemen's side is rather full; two-thirds of these have
