soft, dazzling green, and had that peculiar velvet-like smoothness,
which seem characteristic of England. We stopped at last before the door
of a cottage, whose porch was overgrown with ivy. From that moment I
ceased to feel myself a stranger in England. I cannot tell you how
delightful to me, dizzy and weary as I was, was the first sight of the
chamber of reception which had been prepared for us. No item of cozy
comfort that one could desire was omitted. The sofa and easy chair
wheeled up before a cheerful coal fire, a bright little teakettle
steaming in front of the grate, a table with a beautiful vase of
flowers, books, and writing apparatus, and kind friends with words full
of affectionate cheer,--all these made me feel at home in a moment.

The hospitality of England has become famous in the world, and, I think,
with reason. I doubt not there is just as much hospitable feeling in
other countries; but in England the matter of coziness and home comfort
has been so studied, and matured, and reduced to system, that they
really have it in their power to effect more, towards making their
guests comfortable, than perhaps any other people.

After a short season allotted to changing our ship garments and for
rest, we found ourselves seated at the dinner table. While dining, the
sister-in-law of our friends came in from the next door, to exchange a
word or two of welcome, and invite us to breakfast with them the
following morning.

Between all the excitements of landing, and meeting so many new faces,
and the remains of the dizzy motion of the ship, which still haunted me,
I found it impossible to close my eyes to sleep that first night till
the dim gray of dawn. I got up as soon as it was light, and looked out
of the window; and as my eyes fell on the luxuriant, ivy-covered porch,