three passengers at a time.  Tom went first, taking with him the two children, and the two poor sea-sick maids, and the boat at once put off for the land, Tom steering.  It was terrible to watch them from the whale-boat, and when one tremendous sea came, and the skiff broached to, I thought for a moment that all was over, as did every one who was watching our proceedings from the pier.  I could not look any more, till I heard shouts that they were safe ashore.  Then came our turn.  The boat returned for us, this time provided with better oars, and we were soon landed in safety, if not in comfort; and a third and last trip brought ashore the rest of the party and the luggage, Tom remaining at the tiller.

Mr. Coghlan had come down to meet us, but, seeing the peril of the first boat, had gone away until he heard we were all landed, and now returned to congratulate us on our narrow escape and present safety.  After we had rested for a short time in the waiting-room, to recover from our fright and shake our dripping garments, we went to the Hotel de la Paix, where we dined, and at ten o’clock we walked down to the railway-station, where a large number of people had already assembled, some of whom were to accompany us to Azul, while others had only come to see us off.

Everything had been most comfortably arranged for us in the special train.  The interior fittings of two second-class American carriages had been completely taken out, and a canvas lining, divided into compartments, each containing a cozy little bed, had been substituted.  Wash-stands, looking-glasses, &c., had been provided, and a profusion of beautiful flowers filled in every available spot.  In a third car two tables, occupying its entire length, with seats on one side of each table, had been placed; and here it was intended that we should breakfast, lunch, and dine.

Monday, September 25th.—­We slept soundly—­speaking for the children and myself—­until we were aroused at six o’clock this morning by the agreeable intelligence that we had reached our destination.  Azul is about 300 miles south of Buenos Ayres, on the Southern Railway.  It is a small and primitive place in itself, but is situated in the midst of splendid pastures, both for rearing sheep and cattle, of which there are large flocks and herds.

Whilst we were waiting for breakfast, we walked a little distance to see a troop of mares treading mud for bricks.  It was a curious, but rather sad sight.  Inside a circular enclosure, some fifty yards in diameter, about fifty half-starved animals, up to their houghs in very sloppy mud, were being driven round about, and up and down, as fast as they could go, by a mounted peon, assisted by five or six men on foot, outside the enclosure, armed with long heavy whips, which they used constantly.  Some of the poor creatures had foals, which were tied up a little distance off, and which kept up a piteous whinnying, as an accompaniment to the lashings and