ing with her sea-going qualities. I was much pleased with my cabin, situated at the stern, opening to the ward-room.
“We shall be very comfortable here,” said I to Conseil.
“Very much so, indeed, if Monsieur is not displeased to live like a hermit crab in a whelk-shell.”
I left Conseil to arrange the cabin, and ascended to the deck to investigate the preparations for getting under weigh. At this moment Commodore Farragut gave orders to “let go,” so, had I been a quarter of an hour later, I should have been left behind, and missed this extraordinary and improbable expedition, of which this truthful narrative may perhaps contain some incredible statements.
But Commodore Farragut did not wish to lose an hour in searching the seas in which the animal was reported to be found. He sent for the engineer.
“Is steam up?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” replied the engineer.
“Go ahead, then,” said the commodore.
At this order, which was conveyed to the engine-room by a speaking tube, the engineers started the engines. The steam hissed into the cylinders, the long pistons set the connecting-rods of the shaft in motion. The blades of the screw beat the waves with increasing rapidity, and the Abraham Lincoln advanced majestically in the midst of a crowd of ferry boats and tenders, filled with spectators, which composed the procession.
The quays of New York and Brooklyn, bordering the East river, were crowded with the curious. Three cheers were given by half a million throats. Thousands of
