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The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 113 [07-18-1855]

bury being unaccountably nowhere; necessitating researches on the
part of Boutcher and myself to discover that nowhere.     Finally
t�was found at the Railroad dep�t, on a lonely cart, ransomed,
and transported to the Washington, which lay fuming with im-
patience at the non arrival of the mails.   The Purser chummed
us in a spacious cabin on the after deck, some fifteen berths in it,
three in depth.    I lay on top, Conworth middle, Frenchman be-
low.     There are two windows in top-berths, (one mine,) also a
large square one of over the washing arrangements, which consist is
two basins, with pitchers to match, no soap (for the present,) or
towels.    A chaos of bales and boxes blockade the place.    Passengers,
English, Canadian, American, and German, all thronging on board,
captain and officers busy and curt in response to wild inquirers.
The day sunny and hot, Southampton town bright looking and
folks crowding on deck to see friends off.    By 2 the vessel moves
off, and Boutcher, who stands on the quay for half an hour, with
bolt upright, with tall figure and hawk-like, resolute aspect, waves
hand, and is off.     Slowly we labour down the green Southampton
water, looking on the pleasant shores, the buoys, (one a la Inchcape
Bell,) fort and light house, and presently the coast of the Isle
of Wight is seen.     I talk to Conworth, turn in and have
a two hours doze, (after a rough-and-tumble dinner in the fore-
cabin,) waking up by 5.   Wind dead ahead, very little tossing,
but lots of people sick.   Conworth amongst the number.
  {19.  Thursday.       Fraternization with fellow passengers after
  20.  Friday}       my wont, and shall proceed to securing pen
and ink photographs of some of em.     And firstly of the detail               
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