THE FIRST THREE DAYS AT SEA.
��OUT on the Sea ! out on the broad blue waters ! How the surges leap and plunge, as they bear us along ; wild horses of the deep, each in haste to cast his burden upon another s back, toss his white mane, and away.
In early childhood, it was my favorite dream to look, some time or other, on the brave old island where our best books came from, and our nicest frocks, where the Plantagenets strode, and the Tudors domineered, and the Tower was built, and the Gunpowder-plot foiled, which our fathers called the Mother-Land, and took such pains to break loose from. And now, here we are, three days sail toward her green shores.
Yet, when the time came to leave, and all things were ready, gladly would I have retracted. Even now, I wonder why I am here, with this great parting-pain tugging at my heart-strings like a vampire. Oh ! if I had only known before, what I know now, about this home-sickness and sea-sickness.
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