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Sunday, September 2d.

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Rose at half-past six: the sun was shining brilliantly; woke H—— and went on deck with her. The morning was glorious, the sun had risen two hours in the sky, the sea was cut by a strong breeze, and curled into ridges that came like emerald banks crowned with golden spray round our ship; she was going through the water at nine knots an hour. I sat and watched the line of light that lay like a fairy road to the east—towards my country, my dear dear home.

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Breakfasted at table for the first time since I've been on board the ship—I did hope, the last. After breakfast, put my things to rights, tidied our cabin for prayers, and began looking out the lessons; while doing so, the joyful sound, "Land, land!" was heard aloft. I rushed on deck, and between the blue waveless sea, and the bright unclouded sky, lay the wished-for line of darker element. 'Twas Long Island: through a glass I descried the undulations of the coast, and even the trees that stood relieved against the sky. Hail, strange land! my heart greets you coldly and sadly! Oh, how I thought of Columbus, as with eyes strained and on tiptoe our water-weary passengers stood, after a summer's sail of thirty days, welcoming their mother earth! The day was heavenly, though intensely hot, the sky utterly cloudless, and, by that same token, I do not love a cloudless sky. They tell me that this is their American weather almost till Christmas; that's nice, for those who like frying. Commend me to dear England's soft, rich, sad, harmonious skies and foliage—commend me to the misty curtain of silver vapour that hangs over her September woods at morning, and shrouds them at night;—in short, I am home-sick before touching land. After lunch, my father read prayers to us, and that excellent sermon of dear Mr. Thurstone's on taking the sacrament. After prayers, came on deck; there were two or three sails in sight—hailed a schooner which passed us—bad news of the cholera—pleasant this—walked about, collected goods and chattels, wrote journal, spent some time in seeing a couple of geese take a sea-swim with strings tied to their legs. After dinner, sat in my cabin some time—walked on deck; when the gentlemen joined us, we danced the sun down, and the moon up. The sky was like the jewel-shop of angels; I never saw such brilliant stars, nor so deep an azure to hang them in. The moon was grown powerful, and flooded the deck, where we sat playing at blind man's buff, magic music, and singing, and talking of shore till midnight, when we came to bed. I must not forget how happy an omen greeted us this morning. As we stood watching the "dolce color di oriental zaffiro," one of the wild wood pigeons of America flew round our mizen-mast, and alighted on the top-sail yard;—this was the first living creature which welcomed us to the New World, and it pleased my superstitious fancy. I would have given any thing to have caught the bird, but, after resting itself awhile, it took flight again and left us. We were talking to-day to one of our steerage passengers, a Huddersfield manufacturer, going out in quest of a living, with five children of his own to take care of, and two nephews. The father of the latter, said our Yorkshireman, having married a second time, and these poor children being as it were "thristen (thrust) out into the world loike—whoy oi jist took care of them." Verily, verily, he will have his reward—these tender mercies of the poor to one another are beautiful, and most touching.

Journal of a Residence in America

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