When a' the witches will be seen--"

in fearful hope of seeing a witch, not mounted on a broomstick, but on
the respectable household cat, changed for that night into a flying
fury; finally, along with my brothers, being captured, washed, and
dressed, to join with other spirits worse than ourselves in "dooking"
for apples and eating mashed potatoes in momentary expectation of
swallowing a threepenny-bit or a thimble. To-night, far from the other
spirits, far from the chill winds and the cabbage-stalks, I have been
watching the sunset on the desert making the world a glory of rose and
gold and amethyst. Now it is dark; the lights are lit all over the
ship; the floor of heaven is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold...

"In such a night did young Lorenzo ..."


_Nov. 2, 11.30 a.m_.

Our fellow-passengers derive much amusement from the way we sit and
scribble, and one man asked me if I were writing a book! All this time
I haven't mentioned the Port Said letters. We got them before we left
the ship, and, determined for once to show myself a well-balanced,
sensible young person, I took mine to the cabin and locked them firmly
in a trunk, telling myself how nice it would be to read them in peace
on my return. The spirit was willing, but--I found I must rush down to
take just a peep to see if everyone was well, and the game ended with
me sitting uncomfortably on the knobby edge of Mrs. Albert Murray's
bunk, breathlessly tearing open envelopes.

They were all delightful, and I have read them many times. I have