We crossed the Strait of Dover at about midnight, though not unawares!

As I had no fears of getting sea-sick upon the Strait of Dover, I took my seat on the deck in confidence of a pleasant voyage.  Mrs. L. soon asked me whether I did not expect to get sick, stating that she was in great fear of it.  I replied that I hoped our passage was too short for getting sick, as the waves were not apt to rise very high in such a narrow strait.  But I was mistaken; the sick were soon moaning in every direction.  My gay companions all disappeared except the old gentleman and his younger daughter.  A large steamship of 3,000 tons burden would probably show more dignity, but the little steamer upon which we had taken passage, was as fiercely knocked about by the waves, and made fully as much ado about it, as the old “Manhattan” ever did in the middle of the Atlantic.  The young lady was keeping close to her father and had already ceased to laugh, when I asked him the last time about their health. He was well, but the young lady was also becoming dizzy from the rocking, and turning pale at the terrors of the sea.  I hastened to the cabin below and sought relief in lying down.  Being both weary and giddy I soon fell into a sleep, from which I did not wake until we reached Calais.

The train for Paris was not to leave until the next morning, so I tried to find rest and sleep in the Waiting Room, but without success.  By and by a gentleman came round and offered to conduct us to lodging places.  I followed him into the city, through strange streets into a strange house, and was shown to retire in a strange room.  Everything seemed in its place, however, so that I had no occasion for feeling uneasy.  The next morning I rose at break of day and took a long walk through the city of Calais, to look about and see as much, as possible before I had to leave.  This was my first walk on the Continent of Europe.

I looked about where I might get breakfast, but as most of the business houses were not yet open, I stood a poor chance.  Into the saloons I would not go, as I could not have asked for what I wanted on account of my inability to speak French; my only hope, therefore, was to find a shop or store that displayed in the window what I wanted, so that I could make my purchase by gestures.  I had provided myself with a Conversational Guide Book, in London, containing the French, Italian and German equivalents of English words and phrases, most necessary to the tourist; but the French pronunciation is so difficult that I could after all not make myself understood except by pointing out these French words to the shop-keepers.  To give the reader an idea of what mistakes an American is apt to make in pronouncing French, I offer the names of two of the most common articles of food.  They are pain (bread) pronounced pae, and lait (milk) pronounced l[=a].  I succeeded, however, later in the morning, when the shops were generally open, to procure a breakfast, whereupon, after having visited a very antique church and examined the strong fortifications of the city, I started for the railway station.