To be at sea is to be at sea, no matter whether it is on a fresh water ocean or a salt one. The sights, the sensations, and consequences are much the same. There, a ship or two in full sail; here, a passenger or two, of both sexes, with the "wind taken out of their sails." The "old salts" or "old freshes" behave themselves much as usual, and so do the "green" ones of both atmospheres--the latter by preparing for a "bath" of perspiration and throwing everything down the "sink," or into the sea; and the former by picking out companions for the voyage. Being myself an "old salt," and tumbling in with one or two of a "fellow feeling wondrous kind," we were soon on as good terms as if we had known each other for years. After "supper," a sumptuous repast at 6 p.m., we went on to the "hurricane deck" to enjoy the calm and pleasant evening outside. There was a "gentle swell" on the Lake--not much, but enough to upset a few. After dark, we went into the "ladies' cabin"--an elegant saloon, beautifully furnished, and not without a grand piano, where the "old freshes" of the softer sex--young and pretty ones too--were amusing themselves with playing and singing. An impromptu concert was soon formed, and a few very good pieces of music well played and sung. All went off very well while nothing but English, or, I should more properly say, American and Canadian, were sung, but one young lady, unfortunately, essayed one of the sweetest and most plaintive of Scotch songs--"Annie Laurie." Now fancy the love-sick "callant" for the sake of Annie Laurie lying down to _die_; just fancy Annie Laurie without the Scotch; only fancy Annie Laurie in a sort of mixture of Canadianisms and Americanisms; fancy "toddy" without the whisky, and you have some idea of "Annie Laurie" as sung on board the _Fulton_ while splashing away on Lake Ontario, somewhere between America and Canada. There being little more to induce us to remain there, and by the ship's regulations it was getting near the time for "all lights out" in the cabins, we took an early "turn in," with the view of making an early "turn-out," so as to be alive and about when we should enter the St. Lawrence, which we did at 6 o'clock a.m., on a fine bright morning, the sun just rising to light up and "heighten" all the glorious tints of the trees on the Thousand and One Islands, among which we were now sailing.