As a usual thing, boys and girls—and even older people—delight to hear about the ocean and the vessels which float upon it, and now I shall tell you what I know about the ocean and a voyage across it. August is said to be one of the best summer months for ocean travel, because there are not so many hard storms during that month. There is very little use in paying attention to that saying, for the sea is just as liable to be rough and stormy one month as another. You know storms come up on land when we least expect them, and continue longer than we think they will? Well, just so it is on the ocean; so there is a possibility of having bad weather, go any month you will. For a starting point you may choose one of four harbors,—Boston, Baltimore, Philadelphia or New York. The largest steamers, however, sail from New York, and it was from there that we took our departure the first day of August, 1891, at one o’clock P.M. The day was beautiful, just as clear as any August day you ever saw; so the hearts of the passengers were glad, for sunshine and mild weather were indications of a pleasant voyage, we thought. Pleasant weather on land, however, did not mean pleasant weather out at sea, as we found out later on. The name of our steamer was the Aller. It is not one of the very largest ships, but it did seem immense to us. We were quite anxious to have a good look at our new home, so we went aboard long before sailing time, and before the rest of the passengers gathered together. In wandering around we saw narrow passageways and many very small rooms. In our houses at home we should have called them good sized closets, but in a steamship they were sleeping rooms, and plenty large enough—if only two persons occupied them. But it is a surprise to know that sometimes three and four persons must room together when there is a crowd. I am glad to say there was plenty of room on the Aller, and we were the only occupants of our stateroom. [Illustration: _The Aller._] In each of the rooms there was a sofa covered with plush, a wash-stand and basin, and two beds. The beds were built against one side of the little room, one above the other, and the person who occupied the upper berth found it necessary to climb up a stepladder every time he retired. Every piece of furniture was fastened securely; there seemed to be no danger of their moving from place to place when the sea grew wild and the vessel tumbled about. Each room had a window in it almost as large as a dinner plate, and just as round. The glass was set in a heavy brass frame, and a large screw was used to fasten the window. Not a drop of water could enter, no matter how high the waves rolled or how hard the water dashed against them. These windows are called portholes, and the little rooms are always known as staterooms. When a berth was spoken of we all knew it meant the bed. You see by this that the most familiar things had a different name on board a ship.