Spoke the brewery barge Budweiser, outward bound, Captain Umlaut. The Budweiser fired a salute of four dozen bottles, not one of which, unfortunately, reached the Lithia’s deck. In a heroic effort to rescue a bottle, Tom Collins fell overboard. He was picked up by a fishing party, and when last seen was eating the bait. ⁂ A blood-curdling screech has come up through the ventilator, and the Captain has gone below with a marlingspike. ⁂ Later.—The Captain has returned. It seems that the Valet scorched Hennessy Martel’s tongue trying to iron the wrinkles out of it. The rest of us have decided on dry massage for ours. ⁂ The Scotch-plaid guinea-pig threw a lighted cigarette in some straw in the trailer and started a fire. The deck-hands turned on the sprinkler and put it out. No great damage. The purple pig had his Keeley-cured hams smoked—that’s all. ⁂ Hennessy Martel has got himself disliked by nailing up in the dining-cabin the following teasing dinner-card: Cocktails Grapefruit soused with maraschino Consomme with sherry Fried skate Soused mackerel Croute of pineapple with Madeira sauce Leg of lamb, mint julep sauce Roast ham, champagne sauce Artillery punch Venison, port wine sauce Plum pudding with lots of brandy sauce Rum omelette Buns Brandied peaches Black coffee with cognac Individual Turkish bath ⁂ At 3 P. M. we made Water Tank No. 2. Catcalls and groans from all on board. ⁂ Passed the Spit Buoy. Nobody could. ⁂ Turner Van Newleaf, one of the most popular of the passengers, was suddenly taken with water on the brain. Doctor Zoolak bled him, soaked him, and pulled his leg. Poor Van Newleaf was compelled to borrow enough money to finish the cruise. ⁂ Some practical joker raised the cry of “What’ll you have?” The panic that followed made a football mix-up look like a procession of choir-boys, and a dozen or more passengers were lost from the Wagon. Among those that fell were Jim Rickey and Guinness Stout. ⁂ 5 P. M.—Sighted the Players’ Club. The Captain gave the Engineer the jingle-bell, and we went by the danger-point like a squirt of seltzer. ⁂ The drouth in the saloon is intolerable. The dry batteries that run the fans have given out. Count Martini has tossed his waterproof coat over the rail. He says there is such a thing as being too dry. The sentiment was wildly applauded. ⁂ Eggley Monade has been going around asking the conundrum, “Why is a port-hole like a chaser?” Everybody gave it up, and he borrowed the Captain’s megaphone to reply, “Because it’s something on the side.” The Mate put a crimp in him with a belaying-pin, and Doctor Zoolak thinks that will hold him for awhile. ⁂