Then there is to be a fancy dress ball. Opinions are divided. On the one
part it is urged that fancy dress balls are healthy and amusing. On the
other, that they are exceedingly tiresome. The discussion is prolonged.
In the end the objectors are overruled--still objecting. Such are the
politics of the State.

Inoculation against enteric fever proceeds daily. The doctors lecture in
the saloon. One injection of serum protects; a second secures the
subject against attacks. Wonderful statistics are quoted in support of
the experiment. Nearly everyone is convinced. The operations take place
forthwith, and the next day sees haggard forms crawling about the deck
in extreme discomfort and high fever. The day after, however, all have
recovered and rise gloriously immune. Others, like myself, remembering
that we still stand only on the threshold of pathology, remain
unconvinced, resolved to trust to 'health and the laws of health.' But
if they will, invent a system of inoculation against bullet wounds I
will hasten to submit myself.

Yesterday we passed a homeward-bound liner, who made great efforts to
signal to us, but as she was a Union boat the captain refused to go near
enough to read the flags, and we still remain ignorant of the state of
the war. If the great lines of steamships to the Cape were to compete
against each other, as do those of the Atlantic, by increasing their
speeds, by lowering their rates, by improving the food and
accommodation, no one would complain, but it is difficult to see how the
public can be the gainers by the silly antagonism I have described.
However, the end is drawing very near, and since we have had a safe and
prosperous journey criticism may well waive the opportunity. Yet there
are few among the travellers who will not experience a keen feeling of
relief in exchanging the pettiness, the monotony, and the isolation of