However, "I pulled through all right," as Lord ARTHUR would say,
and was so delighted with my sailor-like indifference to the
"rolling-sea," that I adopted a rolling-walk on landing, which was
most impressive, to judge from the staring of the inhabitants of
Weymouth!--(I may confess to _you_ that I couldn't help myself;
everything was going up and down and sideways, for _hours_ after I
landed, and I really think the sea ought to be done away with, or
flattened out by some means!--there's a fortune for the man who
invents the machine which will do it!)--I should prefer it done away
with myself, as then there would be no mackerel-fishing!

I have no personal animosity against the humble but lovely-looking
mackerel; but I was weak enough to accept an invitation to go
fishing for them, and you may imagine my horror at being "roused
out,"--(yachting expression, _very_ significant)--at _three_ in the
morning to go and capture them!--or at least to _try_--for as a matter
of fact, we didn't get a single one--and my temper was "roused out"
before we'd finished, for no well-conducted woman cares to be balked
in her efforts to "hook a big fish,"--and all I could catch were a
few small "Pollock" and "Pout." By the way, who on earth christens
the fish, I wonder?--and why on earth--or rather in sea--are there so
many varieties which you must either remember or submit to nave your
ignorance jeered at by the practised fisherman, who has probably
acquired his information concerning them only the day before?

The English "Bay of Naples" is a wonderful place, and its resemblance
to its Italian prototype is admirably sustained through the liberality
of the Local Board in encouraging the importation of Italian penny-ice
men! I really think this wholesale importation of foreigners is being