passenger? She was nervous and fidgety ever since she came on board,
too. None other than Bulah, the handsome mare bound for Yokohama. It was
worth going through the steerage to watch her enjoy one of our "eleven
o'clock" apples.

When the lunch gong sounded, we all went below (doesn't that sound real
nautical?) to try and get settled in our home for the next three months.
Apparently there was no place left for even our hats, thoughtful gifts,
fruits, candy and flowers, filled every inch of ordinary space.
Christmas time was tame by comparison.

Many were down to lunch, fortified by a highball, but at dinner, mal de
mer had claimed its victims, and there were only a few brave spirits on
deck to indulge in dancing the first night.

The second day out everybody was trying to remember everyone else by
name. One positive lady insisted that A. I. Esberg was Dr. Morton, but
little mistakes were forgotten, and many of the committee were soon
calling each other by their first names.

While most of us were getting comfortably settled in our deck chairs,
someone noticed that Louis Glass, George Vranizan, C. W. Hinchcliffe,
Carl Westerfeld, C. A. Thayer, C. H. James, William Symon, F. S.
Ballinger, P. H. Lyon, S. L. Schwartz and Henry Mattlage had disappeared
below. And it is said by one who trailed them to their lair, that the
Fantan and Pie-gow games, going on in the steerage, were the magnet.

There were other discoveries in the steerage. A Servian girl, Alma
Karlin, who speaks ten languages fluently, but could not afford a
first-class passage (although once well-to-do) on account of the low