in Plymouth for a month or two.

By this time, Penlee Point is rapidly passing astern, with the Plymo Pilot, who brought us out, the glorious orb of day is sinking away in the far west; the Crew is busy hoisting the Canvas; the dear, good Captain is pacing the Deck giving orders in a Manner which indicates authority, responsibility, and anxiety the passengers are grouped together in Knots chatting over the events of the day on shore, till at last the shades of evening draw rapidly on the call Bell for Tea tinkles, and all but myself and dear wife hasten below, to partake of the last meal in the sight of old England, we are now alone with the Captain, and