We have just “come to” in a fine shoal of mackerel, so I must quit writing and go to fishing; for David and I have a great strife which will catch the most on the voyage.

Love, as usual, to every body, from yours,

Pidgie.

LETTER VI.

VISIT TO THE CUNARD STEAMER.

From Pidgie to Bennie.

Nowhere in particular, July 22d.

I was almost in despair, dear Bennie, of ever getting a chance to send you the nice long letters I had written.  Though we had been nearly three weeks from home, we had not stopped at any port, or spoken a single vessel.  Yesterday evening, Clarendon was amusing himself with a spy-glass which he brought with him, and David and I were wondering whether it could make something out of nothing,—­for there was no land in sight, or any thing else to spy at, that we could perceive.  Brother’s eyes, however, were better than ours; for he saw a speck in the distance, which he found to be a vessel of large size, and he called the captain to take a look at it.  Captain Cobb pronounced it forthwith, from its peculiar form and the day of the month, to be one of the British steamers, which had got a little to the north, on its way to Halifax.  He soon found that his conjectures were right; and as she appeared to be at rest, and the wind was fair, we made towards her with all possible speed.

It is a marvel to me how such a great, unwieldy thing can float on the water, especially as there is so much iron about it.  After all, I like our old fishing-smack better than being within continual hearing of that monstrous engine; and then the smell of smoke and steam would, I am sure, take away my appetite, so that I could not even enjoy one of their splendid dinners.

But you have no idea, Bennie, what elegant style every thing is in on board these steamers.  Two or three turns on the long, shining deck would be quite a morning walk, and the immense dining-room appears larger still, from the mirrors on every side.  I had heard so much of the state-rooms, that I expected more than was reasonable; and when I saw them, the idea of passing night after night in such little closets was not agreeable.  The pantry presented a beautiful assortment of glass and china; but every tumbler and cup had to be fastened to the wall by hooks, or, in case of rough weather, there would be fatal smashing.  The castors, too, looked so droll, suspended over the table like hanging lamps!

The ladies appeared quite as much at home in their delightful saloons as in the most luxurious apartments in the city, and few Virginian drawing-rooms could make such a display of Wilton carpets, velvet lounges, and splendid mirrors.