“The sea is a jovial comrade, He laughs wherever he goes; His merriment shines in the dimpling lines That-wrinkle his hale repose: He lays himself down at the feet of the Sun, And shakes all over with glee, And the broad-backed billows fall faint on the shore In the mirth of the mighty Sea.” It may be that the beauty and joy of the sea appeared more remarkable because of the great contrast between its free and wild life, and the crowded and stifled existence of the mortals who witnessed its gambols. At all events he was not so delighted with the sea that he could not shout with the others, when the dark outlines of Ireland’s mountains appeared through the mist. The sleepless nights, the company of howling Iowa Indians, the musty cabin, the terrible nausea—all were forgotten in the sight of land, and as the goal grew nearer, the more like a dream became all the disagreeable experiences of the voyage, until when, after tacking from northern Ireland to Scotland, from Scotland to Ireland, and from Ireland to the Isle of Man, they sailed up the Mersey to Liverpool, the inconveniences of the voyage had wholly faded out, and only the few agreeable incidents remained a reality. They passed the dreaded officials of the custom-house without difficulty, and by the advice of a “wild Englishman,” who was one of their travelling companions, they went to the Chorley Tavern, and there enjoyed a bountiful dinner, as only passengers by sea can enjoy them when first they step on shore. Bayard was impressed by the sombre appearance of the city, and amused by the use of the middle of the streets for sidewalks, and by the pink each man carried in his buttonhole. CHAPTER VII. Departure from Liverpool.—Travels Second-Class.—Arrival at Port Rush.—The Giant’s Causeway.—Lost and in Danger.—Dunluce Castle.—Effect upon the Travellers.—Condition of the Irish.—Arrival at Dumbarton.—Scaling the Castle Walls.—Walk to Loch Lomond.—Ascent of Ben Lomond.—Loch Katrine.—Visit to Stirling.