I got everybody
else up too, and we all had breakfast at seven.
I made a very good lunch. One of those seafaring men said to me
once:
"Now, if ever you are going a short passage, and are at all nervous,
you lay in a good load. It's a good load in the hold what steadies
the ship. It's them half-empty cruisers as goes a-rollin' and a-
pitchin' and a-heavin' all over the place, with their stern up'ards
half the time. You lay in ballast."
It seemed very reasonable advice.
Aunt Emma came in the afternoon. She said she was so glad she had
caught me. Something told her to change her mind and come on Friday
instead of Saturday. It was Providence, she said.
I wish Providence would mind its own business, and not interfere in
my affairs: it does not understand them.
She says she shall stop till I come back, as she wants to see me
again before she goes. I told her I might not be back for a month.
She said it didn't matter; she had plenty of time, and would wait
for me.
The family entreat me to hurry home.
I ate a very fair dinner - "laid in a good stock of ballast," as my
seafaring friend would have said; wished "Good-bye!" to everybody,
and kissed Aunt Emma; promised to take care of myself - a promise
which, please Heaven, I will faithfully keep, cost me what it may -
hailed a cab and started.
