MARK TWAIN

20th April. Three days of heavy sea now and the above
is my first attempt to get an afternoon nap.

It is a marvel that never loses its surprise by repetition,
this aiming a ship at a mark 3000 miles away and hitting
the bull's-eye in a fog—as we did. When the fog fell on
us the captain said we ought to be at such and such a
spot (it had been 18 hours since an observation was
taken) with the Scilly Islands bearing so and so, and
about so many miles away. Hove the lead and got 48
fathoms—looked on the chart and sure enough this depth
of water showed that we were right where the captain
said we were. Another idea. For ages man probably did
not know why God carpeted the ocean bottom with sand
in one place, shells in another etc. But we see, now; the
kind of bottom the lead brings up shows where a ship
is when the soundings don't—and also it confirms the
soundings.

Lying story books which make boys fall in love with
the sea. Capt. Brandt's experience and that of young
Cooper in the English paper and a million other instances
show 2 things (Dana's and that of the young Canadian
of the Astor expedition)—that a common sailor's life is
often a hell, and that there are probably more brutes in
command of little ships than in any other occupation
of life.

Hamburg

Church St. Nicholai very beautiful, openwork stone
spire (said to be next highest in the world) set upon a
huge brick edifice. One account says this spire is the high-
est in the world. Well, no matter, the church can claim
one preeminence I think which cannot successfully be
disputed—that the inside of it is the dismalest, barrenest,
ugliest barn that exists in the boundless universe of God.

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