In the Gulf of Mexico trade there is a wonderfully fast little fore-and-aft schooner called the “Margaret S. Smith,” of Portland, Maine. This vessel ran on one occasion from Ruatan, Honduras, to Mobile in seventy-two hours, which was an hourly average of twelve and one-half knots; and considering that the net tonnage of this schooner is only one hundred and twelve, her performance must be regarded as almost phenomenal. There are not very many large sailing ships in these days which can show a record of three hundred miles per diem for three consecutive days; yet the “Smith” is doubtless less than one hundred feet long. The other day I managed to get a large dollop of slush on a pair of thick trousers, and I asked the skipper if Sammie, the boy, couldn’t get it out, thinking that he could do so with some soap and a little warm water. But lo! fifteen minutes later I saw my trousers soaking away in a tub of water like a pair of dungaree breeches! This, as I observed before, is the way with seafaring people: whenever there is aught amiss with a garment, pop it goes into the wash-tub. Latitude, 6° 49′ south; longitude, 33° 48′ west. +June 11+ “All hands wear ship; all hands ’bout ship.” These are the cries which ring constantly through the vessel now. Woful to tell, the Trades are still from the south-southeast, though the captain in some way has contrived to control his temper to a wonderful degree; such unlooked-for and devilish a performance of the Trades is enough to finally ruin any skipper’s chances of entrance into Heaven’s Gate, or the Golden Gate either. Last evening at five o’clock we descried the land from aloft on the lee or starboard bow, and after supper it was very plain from the deck, so that at six we tacked and stood off shore again. At that time the sun had just sank behind the sandy wastes of the Brazilian coast, casting a deep crimson light over the sea; while dead ahead, at the extremity of a profound curve in the coast-line, Point Pedras rose out of the ocean in a low headland, with a tremendous mass of gloomy cloud above it, lending to that part of the scene a sombre and awful aspect. Though the land did not show up sufficiently well to allow us to perceive any of its characteristics, it was plain enough to permit us to say that we distinctly saw the shore-line of this vast and torrid land. Point Pedras, it might be well to state, is not only the easternmost point of Brazil, but of the entire Western Hemisphere, being forty-five miles farther east than Cape San Roque.