On the way back to the hotel, as my companion was thinking aloud, I
heard him alternately muttering in soft tones, "What a pretty hand," and
then, in harsh and hasty tones, '"Confound," ... "crusty old fellow;"
and reflecting thereon, I came to the conclusion that if the expressions
indicated weakness, they indicated that pardonable civilizing weakness,
susceptibility to the charms of beauty; and I consequently thought more
kindly of my future fellow-traveller. In the evening we were joined by
my brother and a young officer of the Household Brigade, who were to be
fellow-passengers in our trip across the Atlantic.

Early morning witnessed a procession of hackney coaches, laden as though
we were bent on permanent emigration. Arrived at the quay, a small,
wretched-looking steamer was lying alongside, to receive us and our
goods for transport to the leviathan lying in mid-channel, with her
steam up ready for a start.

The operation of disposing of the passengers' luggage in this wretched
little tea-kettle was amusing enough in its way. Everybody wanted
everybody else's traps to be put down, below, and their own little this,
and little that, kept up: one group, a man, wife, and child,
particularly engaged my attention; the age of the child, independent of
the dialogue, showed that the honeymoon was passed.

WIFE.--"Now, William, my dear, _do_ keep that little box up!"

HUSBAND.--"Hi! there; keep that hat-box of mine up!" (_Aside_,) "Never
mind your box, my dear, _it_ wont hurt."

WIFE.--"Oh, William, there's my little cap-box going down! it will be
broken, in pieces."