CHAPTER II.
THE LAKES.
Scene, Steamboat — About to leave Buffalo — Baggage coming on board — Passengers bustling for their berths — Little boys persecuting everybody with their newspapers and pamphlets — J., S. and M. huddled up in a forlorn corner, behind a large trunk — A heavy rain falling.
M. Water, water everywhere. After Niagara one would like a dry strip of existence. And at any rate it is quite enough for me to have it under foot without having it over head in this way.
J. Ah, do not abuse the gentle element. It is hardly possible to have too much of it, and indeed, if I were obliged to choose amid the four, it would be the one in which I could bear confinement best.
S. You would make a pretty Undine, to be sure!
J. Nay, I only offered myself as a Triton, a boisterous Triton of the sounding shell. You, M. I suppose, would be a salamander, rather.
M. No! that is too equivocal a position, whether
