Beta Book

But his real object was to loll on a West and South Railroad in
luxury, and go sailing out into the foam and perilous seas of
North River. He passed through the smoking-cabin. He didn't
smoke--the habit used up travel-money. Once seated on the upper
deck, he knew that at last he was outward-bound on a liner.
True, there was no great motion, but Mr. Wrenn was inclined to
let realism off easily in this feature of his voyage. At least
there were undoubted life-preservers in the white racks
overhead; and everywhere the world, to his certain witnessing,
was turned to crusading, to setting forth in great ships as if
it were again in the brisk morning of history when the joy of
adventure possessed the Argonauts.
He wasn't excited over the liners they passed. He was so
experienced in all of travel, save the traveling, as to have
gained a calm interested knowledge. He knew the _Campagnia_
three docks away, and explained to a Harlem grocer her fine
points, speaking earnestly of stacks and sticks, tonnage
and knots.


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