DEAR MAMA: We did get off at last, about four in the afternoon, but you
never imagined anything like the day we had with Uncle John. It was
awful, and, as luck would have it, he just happened to go aft or sou'west, or
whatever it is on shipboard, in time to see them drop his trunk into the
hold, and they let it fall from such a height that he swore for an hour. I
don't see why Uncle is so unreasonable; a Russian gentleman had the locks
broken to both his trunks and just smiled, and a very lovely Italian lady
had her trunk caved in by the hoisting-rope and only shrugged her
shoulders; but Uncle turned the whole deck fairly black and blue on
account of a little fall into the hold. If Lee had only been along to soothe
him down! But Lee is in London by this time. I do think he might have
waited and gone with us, but Uncle says he's glad he didn't, because he
says he has more than half an idea that Lee's in love with me, and that no
girl alive could be happy with him. I wish Uncle liked Lee better. I wish
Lee wouldn't slap him on the back and call him "old boy" the way he does.
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