best to do, beginning by telling of the cheerless journey to
Liverpool in rain, the elements even seeming to lament our
departure. The bad weather has lasted more or less ever since,
just one gleam of sunshine brightening us up on leaving the wharf,
but we saw nothing of the Mersey or the surroundings. The only
thing that struck us most forcibly was the smallness of our ship,
though it was 6,000 tons. It has just been re-docked and
overhauled, and still smells horribly of paint and full of
workmen, whom, however, we drop here, in exchange for 1,200
emigrants. These, with about sixty first-class passengers and a
hold full of potatoes, form our cargo. We began life bravely last
night, enjoying a very good dinner, and after playing a rubber of
whist retired to our berths congratulating ourselves on what
excellent sailors we were going to be; but alas!... Dressing this
morning was too difficult, the ship rolled fearfully, even the
friends who came with us thus far, and consider themselves first-
class sailors, think that it will be more prudent to go by train
through Ireland home, instead of waiting for the return boat of
the same line which calls here on Sunday and is to take them to
Liverpool. We almost wish we could turn tail; the prospect of ten
days more of the briny ocean is not what at this moment we most
fancy. However, in the short time we have been in harbour we have
been recruiting to start afresh, and hope for better weather.

* * * * *

Mid Atlantic.

Dearest M.