my portmanteau, introduced me to the captain, and after bidding me good-bye went on shore. It was not long before the steamer started. The steamer, on which I was the only passenger, was laden with wheat, and her destination was Hull. The captain, a middle-aged man of somewhat stern appearance, had with him on board his wife and her sister, and they were all very kind to me. We were very cheerful, and the steward, who was an Irishman, was full of fun, and particularly fond of addressing me with what I imagined to be humorous remarks, and thus making me and the others laugh, though, unfortunately, I did not understand a word he said My English was as yet confined to a very limited number of words, and whenever they wanted to tell me something they wrote it down on a slip of paper, and with great labour I managed to translate their snatches of conversation by looking out every word in my pocket dictionary. Although there was no possibility of my learning any European language in my school days in Asia Minor, I had nevertheless picked up some French by reading a French grammar in Turkish while residing in Pera, and I thought that my French, little as it was, would be of some help to me in talking to the people of the ship, but not a single person on board seemed to know any French. My chief amusement on board was playing with the two baby daughters of the captain, who were typical specimens of the clean, healthy, and lovable children one so often sees in England. I spent hours every day with these two pretty babies, and my voluntary assistance must have been a great relief to their good-looking fair-haired nurse, who, while I was playing with the children, either read a book or amused herself by chatting and laughing with the officers of the ship. I could not understand their conversation, of course, but it was obvious that the men found the task of amusing her pleasant enough. The captain, who appeared to be part-owner of the boat, was a man who appreciated good living, and he supplied us with satisfactory food. The English cooking, which I tasted for the first time on this boat, seemed to me quite different from the European dishes to be obtained in the new restaurants and brasseries in Constantinople. It was also quite unlike Turkish cooking, which, though I lived in foreign countries and become accustomed to their food, I still maintain is excellent. Although I had no reason to be fastidious, and grumble about the food on board, which was decidedly superior to that which families of limited means and residents in boarding-houses get in England, there were two things I did not like. One of these was the English coffee, which was given to us both with breakfast and with the last meal, served out about six in the afternoon. I missed very much the coffee of my country.[9]