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ONCE A WEEK.
[Dec. 6, 1862.

it looked anything but tempting when poured out—being quite discoloured and warm, from the skin being exposed to the sun. Some of the men had met with accidents and lost their supply; but no one would share a drop with his neighbour, so after a few ineffectual demands they sat down, resigned to their fate. It was melancholy to see them not tasting a morsel all day, evidently sea-sick, feverish, and suffering, yet with no water to help them. The ship had only a small stock, and that had to be guarded, for even those Arabs who had a supply endeavoured to save it for themselves. I noticed two men sitting together, who were both suffering terribly from thirst, pointing to their parched lips. I went to my cabin and brought a glass of water, and smuggled it into the hands of one of them. He took the whole to himself, notwithstanding the urgent entreaties of the other. The captain at last allowed the guard to give out water at a certain hour each afternoon, even though attempts had been made to overpower the guard. The sailors had very hard work, and when we arrived at Malta, several told me they would take care never to come on such a voyage again. The little captain was all enthusiasm for his owners, and took everything cheerfully. His poor first officer, quite a young man, had no rest, and was heartily sick of the Arabs: I must confess I was glad to get quietly on shore, and felt thankful to be able to look at the pilgrims from a distance, as I gazed down upon the steamer from the open arches of the Baracca. The pilgrimage appeared to be a sham, and I could not help thinking that Mahommed was in some way or other being cheated, and that the Viceroy of Egypt was not behaving fairly to his memory by running pilgrim steam-boats from Suez to Meccah, and gathering pilgrims from Mediterranean ports to meet them, and helping them, too, across the desert, by “excursion trains.”

S.




THE PARTING OF ULYSSES.

The goddess with a radiant tunic dress’d
My limbs, and o’er me cast a silken vest.
Long flowing robes, of purest white, array
The nymph that added lustre to the day:
A tiar wreath’d her head with many a fold;
Her waist was circled with a zone of gold.
Forth issuing then, from place to place I flew;
Rouse man by man, and animate my crew.
Rise, rise, my mates! ’tis Circe gives command:
Our journey calls us; haste, and quit the land.”

Pope’s Odyssey.