Add to this the interest of the magnificent new locks at the “Soo,” the historical and romantic associations with Marquette and Mackinac (for you will not forget that Miss Woolson’s “Anne” lived on the Great Lakes), and the creature comforts of big state-rooms, with large, comfortable beds, and running water in the basins, on admirable steamers that set an excellent hotel-table, and you will wonder, as we did, that so few tourists seem to know about, or care for, one of the most enjoyable excursions in the country,—­I am quite sure I can say the most enjoyable for the little money it costs.

We took it ourselves quite by accident,—­willing to go out of our way a little on the journey to Colorado in the heat of summer for the sake of a little trip by water to compensate for the sea-shore cottage we were leaving behind us for the season.  We did not, indeed, begin the trip, as the steamers do, at Buffalo; for, although time and tide wait for no man at the East, at the West there are no tides, and time was willing to make an appointment for us to overtake the steamer at Detroit.  We were glad of an excuse for lingering at the House Beautiful in Buffalo, where we would rather spend Sunday any time than on any lake in the world.  Fortunately, we had “been to the Falls” many times before, and had seen Niagara in winter splendor and summer loveliness:  so we were at liberty to idle away the fleeting hours in the shades of Delaware Avenue, on charming piazzas, till the time came when we must start on the flying trip through Canada if we would overtake the steamer Japan.

She was just gliding into her dock at Detroit as we stepped from the cars, and we still had three or four hours’ leisure before she would start again in which to drive about the pretty city and call on friends.  Just before midnight we embarked, and our first experience of the Great Lakes was a night of peaceful and serene slumber.

Peaceful and serene, too, was the following day,—­a patient waiting for the scenery to begin, sitting with novels on what was facetiously known as “the back piazza” of the Japan, out of sight of land, but gliding over a sea so smooth that the hanging flower-baskets on the deck scarcely stirred.  If you scorn such tame delights when apparently at sea, remember that it might have been rough as only lakes are rough in a great storm.  It was very warm.  The captain’s assurance that the next morning we should want to borrow his overcoat and mittens had no effect in disguising the fact that it was warm.  The ladies dressed for dinner, many of them in white; and the only excitement of the afternoon was the “sighting” of the Michigan, United States man-of-war, cruising in lake-waters.  A little knot of officers on deck waved their handkerchiefs; a little knot of pretty girls on the Japan were responding eagerly, when a severe and elderly voice was heard to say, with distinctness, “The officers’ wives are on board the Japan.  They are waving to them.”