Thursday, May 15.—At the Captain's Dinner this evening, free champagne was served, in addition to the two kinds of wine we have had free twice a day since leaving Naples. The captain, whose name is Bouleuc, made a speech in broken English. Sometime tonight we shall reach New York, and cast anchor until daylight, when the doctor, customs officers and immigration officers will come on board to see if they can find anything suspicious. . . . People are as proud of ability to speak French as they are proud of art or musical culture. I know an American woman on board who has been reading French books all the way from Naples; yet she confessed to me that she knows very little French. She simply wanted the reputation (which she did not deserve) of being a French scholar. An American man whom I know very well, sharply criticises the French of a woman who sits at the captain's table, and who talks constantly and volubly in French with the captain. Yet the man confessed to me that he knows only enough French to "get along.". . . We thought of remaining up until we could see the lights of New York, but abandoned the idea at 9:30, and went to bed.
Friday, May 16.—When I awoke this morning,
the "Canada" was lying off Sandy Hook, in company
with eight other ships that had arrived during the night,
and were waiting for the port officers. Among the
ships was the "Princess Irene," the Favorite. It had
