"Back there in the boats" said Captain Potter "I was thinking that, if God was good to us, we might be picked up by some Slavonian bark, with only macaroni enough aboard to take him to the Banks of Newfoundland, where he’d depend on catching a few codfish, and water or not according as it rained. Then it would have been a case of Halifax or St. Johns, or else a transfer in open boats to another vessel, with more danger to my passengers and crew. This, Captain, seems like a pleasant dream" There was no necessity for telling him how it really did happen. In the line for which I was sailing, a captain had the fitting out of his own vessel, and was given practically a free hand. I’d found that there were many things that I could buy cheaper and better in Liverpool; and I always laid in a supply of these for the round trip. Things like hams, and bacon, and tobacco; yes, tobacco, the best American plug at a shilling a pound, the same article that I would have had to pay fifty cents for in New York. At Liverpool, too, we could get the finest French and Irish potatoes; though they wouldn’t keep for the round trip, I used to lay in enough to last me to New York and down to the Line on the outward passage. We had a ton and a half of potatoes on board that trip, when we sailed from Liverpool; we reached New York with half a ton of them left, so you can judge how short of provisions we were. Then there were certain things, especially flour, and canned fruits, vegetables and preserves of all kinds, which I could buy cheapest and best in San Francisco; I’d supplied the ship there with these articles, for the round trip, and a good half of the stock still remained. Butter—we had barrels of it. In fact, we could actually have fed all hands of them for two or three months without allowance; but I didn’t want to spoil the effect by overdoing it. I let them continue to think that this was the accepted fashion on board of an American ship crossing the Western Ocean. That afternoon, when the _Pactolus_ was at last shortened down, the empty bolt-ropes unbent from the upper yards, and the decks cleared for heavy weather, the question of accommodations had to be disposed of. We started with the after cabin; the woman with her baby had one spare stateroom, the invalid man another. To Captain Potter I assigned a third spare stateroom, so that he could be by himself. My own room, with double bunk, sofa, and mattresses on the floor, I gave up to the rest of the women passengers; the stewardess slept on the sofa in the after cabin, and generally looked after the ladies’ quarters.