watching the dolphins leaping in the crystalline foam. Since his
time so many gifted writers have attempted to do the same thing that
on the large Atlantic liners the bowsprit has been removed, or at any
rate a notice put up: "Authors are requested not to lie prostrate on
the bowsprit." But even without this advantage, three or four
generations of writers have chronicled with great minuteness their
sensations during the transit. I need only say that my sensations
were just as good as theirs. I will content myself with chronicling
the fact that during the voyage we passed two dolphins, one whale and
one iceberg (none of them moving very fast at the time), and that on
the fourth day out the sea was so rough that the Captain said that in
forty years he had never seen such weather. One of the steerage
passengers, we were told, was actually washed overboard: I think it
was over board that he was washed, but it may have been on board the
ship itself.

I pass over also the incidents of my landing in Liverpool, except
perhaps to comment upon the extraordinary behaviour of the English
customs officials. Without wishing in any way to disturb international
relations, one cannot help noticing the rough and inquisitorial
methods of the English customs men as compared with the gentle and
affectionate ways of the American officials at New York. The two
trunks that I brought with me were dragged brutally into an open
shed, the strap of one of them was rudely unbuckled, while the lid
of the other was actually lifted at least four inches. The
trunks were then roughly scrawled with chalk, the lids slammed to,
and that was all. Not one of the officials seemed to care to look
at my things or to have the politeness to pretend to want to. I
had arranged my dress suit and my pyjamas so as to make as effective
a display as possible: a New York customs officer would have been