out taking any notice of it, but when they approached nearer to it, they determined to ascertain what it was. They rushed up and found a small tree covered with a sheet. After laughing heartily at the wooden ghost, they hastened on. for it was beginning to rain, but before they arrived at the ball-room they were completely drenched. This they regretted, for that evening they were to be introduced to my mother, and wished to make a favorable impression upon her. Having reached their destination, they were presented to her, and Mr. Thomas said when he saw her he did not regret going, and the trouble they experienced in getting there was all forgotten. She was so beautiful and queen-like, he had to watch his own heart to prevent himself from becoming fascinated by her charms.

A few days before we left Liverpool, I received a letter from my father; he told me if I regretted the step I had taken and wished to return home, not to hesitate for a moment, but come immediately; or if I wished for anything, to write to him, and I should have it. My aunt had made arrangements to sail in a ship called the Annapolis, Captain Jones, and I wrote to him that we expected to leave Livol in a few days. 2

CHAPTER III.

'The good ship breasts the surge, intent to bide
The battle bravely. Yet, like hunted deer,
It croucheth in the hollow of the sea,
Until the full-mouthed billows drive it forth,
Reeling and scathed. Anon the madden'd winds
Pour out fresh forces, and with riven crest
It rusheth desperate o'er the terraced waves,
Vex'd by their dread artillery."

"A shout of 'land!' and on the horizon's edge Gleamed a faint streak, like the white seraph's wing." Mrs. Sigourney.

The day of our departure at length arrived; it was in the middle of October, mild and beautiful. Mr. Thomas took us down to the vessel in his carriage. I felt sorry to part with him, for during our stay in Liverpool I had become much attached to him, and when he bade me "good-bye," I wept as though my heart would break.

The dock was crowded with a great many large vessels, and everything was strange and novel to me. I watched the receding shore until it disappeared, and there was nothing to

be seen but sky and water. My home was lost in the distance, and every moment I was being carried farther from it. I gazed out on the wide ocean, and sad thoughts filled my heart. The hills of my country," my native land, were fast disappearing, and soon an ocean would roll between it and me. Then I began to realize what I was leaving: a father's deep love, a mother's watchful care, and the pleasant associations of fond brothers and loving sisters. But soon bright hopes and anticipations flashed across my mind and dispelled the clouds. I almost felt the gentle zephyrs of freedom's clime fan my fevered brow, and whisper "peace, be still!"

There were a great many passengers on board, and for a few days all was confusion. I have always loved "to steal awhile away from every cumbering care," and spend some part of the day in meditation. One day, while absorbed in thought, I was suddenly aroused by much noise and excitement among some of the passengers, caused by finding a young lady concealed in the vessel. When the captain made his appearance, she related to him her story. She was a poor girl, and not having sufficient money to defray her expenses to

Baltimore, had taken that plan of getting there. When she had finished, she burst into tears and asked him what he intended doing with her. Being a kind-hearted man, he told her if she wished she could assist the stewardess, and that she should be treated kindly. The passengers' sympathies were enlisted in her behalf, and they kindly furnished her with money and clothing. As a general thing they were humane, generous people.

One among the number-a very comical character—seemed to delight in entertaining the others; he kept all on board laughing at his good-humored, witty sayings. There was an English maiden lady on board whom he loved to provoke by telling her he loved her devotedly. We were often entertained by lectures delivered by some of the gentlemen, and no one was listened to with more pleasure and attention than Michael Kelly.

Amid all this mirth I often wept and thought of the "loved ones at home," and wondered if they would ever forget the absent one far away-the wanderer. Once, while absorbed in memories of home and weeping for the days past and gone, a gentleman came up to me and took one of my hands in his. His coun

tenance expressed deep sympathy for me, and if I could have interpreted the German he spoke, I know it would have been words of comfort and consolation to soothe the sorrows of an aching heart.

I derived much pleasure from watching the ocean; the waves, like great mountains rising one above another, seemed enough to bury us in the mighty deep. Their low murmuring blended harmoniously with the song of the sailors. We seemed to live in a world of our own, and for some time nothing occurred to relieve the monotony of our voyage. The weather was mild and clear, but it could not be expected to continue so long, and soon the clouds began to grow thick and dark, the wind blew almost a hurricane, the forked lightning played in the heavens, and the crew, with anxiety depicted in their countenances, began making preparations for a storm. It came

at last, and raged furiously for three days and nights. Everything that was not fastened was upset and rolled from its place, and the vessel danced about like a feather in a child's hand.

All the passengers were much alarmed except Michael Kelly; he with good intentions,