used to introduce the story of "The Madness of Private Ortheris":

Oh! where would I be when my froat was dry? Oh! where would I be when the bullets fly? Oh! where would I be when I come to die? Why,

Somewheres anigh my chum.

If 'e 's liquor 'e 'll give me some,

If I'm dying 'e 'll 'old my 'ead,

An' 'e 'll write 'em 'ome when I 'm dead.

God send us a trusty chum !

There must have been not a few readers who, like the present writer, on finding this nugget of ballad-doggerel, felt that here was a totally unworked field just touched by the spade, and left. Happily, Mr. Kipling has digged farther and deeper, and he has written a series of barrack-room ballads which are quite unique in their kind, and of which scarcely one but is of definite and permanent value. The only writer who has, to my mind, in any degree anticipated the mixture of vulgar and realistic phraseology with the various elements of pathos combined in the lives of rough young men exiled from home is the Australian poet Adam Lindsay Gordon, whom Mr. Kipling greatly excels in variety of meter and force of language. Except in its sardonic form, humor has never been a prominent feature of Mr. Kipling's prose. I hardly know an instance of it not disturbed by irony or savagery, except the story of " Moti Guj," the mutineer elephant. But in some of the "Barrack-room Ballads" there is found the light of a genuine humor. What can be more delightful, for instance, than this appreciative description of Fuzzy-Wuzzy, by one of the Soudan force who has had to deal with him in the bush?

'E rushes at the smoke when we let drive,

An', before we know, 'e 's 'ackin' at our 'ead; 'E's all 'ot sand and ginger when alive,

An' 'e 's generally shammin' when 'e 's dead. 'E's a daisy, e''s a ducky, 'e 's a lamb !

'E 's a' injia-rubber idiot on the spree; 'E's the only thing that does n't care a damn For a regiment of British Infantree.

the Sowdan;

You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man;

And 'ere 's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your 'ayrick 'ead of 'air

You big black boundin' beggar-for you bruk a British square.

But more often, underneath the rollicking storm of the verses, there may be heard the melancholy which is characteristic of so much of the best modern writing, the murmur of that Weltschmerz which is never far off, at all events, from Mr. Kipling's verse. It sometimes seems as though it were the author himself who speaks to us in the soldier's impatience at the colorlessness and restraint of Western life. And it is with the exquisite melody of his own ballad of " Mandalay" that we leave the author who has so strangely moved and fascinated us, who has enlarged our horizon on one wholly neglected side, and from whom, in the near future, we have a right to expect so much imaginative invigoration. But what is he saying?—

Ship me somewhere east of Suez where the best Where there are n't no Ten Commandments,

is like the worst;

an' a man can raise a thirst; For the temple-bells are callin', an' it's there

that I would be

Edmund Gosse.

William Wilfred Campbell.

"N the last days of 1848 a number of young Yale graduates, bound together by almost brotherly friendship and the intimate association of long years of school and college life, were suddenly seized with a longing to join the throng that from all parts of our country was working its way by every known and unknown route to the newly discovered gold-fields of California. They did not go primarily to dig for gold. With some of them that was but a remote contingency. But their professional studies were completed, their old companionship was broken up, and they were feeling the sense of isolation and discouragement inevitable to the early months of professional life, when all business worth having seems already captured by the older and more experienced. In this transition state, and with warnings for some that eyes or health were giving way, they were prepared, like tinder for the steel, to take fire at the enticing stories, then filling our papers and flying from mouth to mouth, of this new region of fabulous wealth, with its fruitful ranches and wonderful scenery, its free, adventurous life, its genial climate, and its golden opportunities for each in his own line, and to respond to its call to come in and possess the land, and to help in the founding of a great State.

There is no corner of the earth that seems now so remote as California then seemed. To

go by the Howland and Aspinwall steamers, then sailing with tolerable regularity to Chagres once a month, would involve long delay, for they found that every passenger-ticket had been sold for many months ahead. Moreover, there was often great detention in crossing the Isthmus, and always fever there. But there were plenty of other ways to choose from. The daily papers were crowded with advertisements of new and much-lauded routes, for which enterprising men were getting up companies to be put through safely "in sixty days," the "rapid transit" of the time. Brigs and schooners from the smallest to the largest were withdrawn from other work and hastily cleaned and fitted up for "a limited number of passengers" to go round the Horn, or to some one of the many ports on the Atlantic from which a quick cut

across to the Pacific, and to whatever vessel chance might there bring them, was feasible.

At length the interesting character of the region to be crossed, together with the pleasing address and beguiling promises of the projector of the enterprise, led the Yale men to. decide on Gordon's Passenger Line via Nicaragua and Realejo.

The story of this trip is given in extracts from letters written home at the time chiefly by one who went to California only to find an early grave. We give below a copy of the receipt given him with a statement of Gordon's plan.

State Room Passage.

GORDON'S PASSENGER LINE

ΤΟ

SAN FRANCISCO, via LAKE NICARAGUA AND
REALEJO.

Received of ROGER S. BALDWIN, JR., the sum of one hundred and thirty dollars being in part for his passage to SAN FRANCISCO, in the above line.

On payment of Balance, One Hundred and Thirty Dollars, this Receipt secures to him passage in the Mary, Captain Hayes, from New York to San Juan De Nicaragua, from thence per Steam Boat Plutus to GRANADA, on Lake Nicaragua; or, navigation permitting, to Managua, Matiares or Nagarote on Lake Leon, as may be most convenient for landing; and a passage from Realejo, on the Pacific, to San Francisco, Camp accommodations during detention on land, en with Hammock, Bed, and Bedding for the voyage, and

route.

The following provisions will be provided, viz:

FOR BREAKFAST.- Coffee and White Sugar-Ham, served Fruit to each ten persons. Fish, Sausages-White Biscuit-half a pound Pre

FOR DINNER.-One third of a quart of Soup made from Kensett & Co.'s preserved Soups-Salt Beef or Pork-Potatoes, Hominy, Peas, or Rice-Rice or Flour Puddings.

FOR SUPPER.- Tea and White Sugar-Ham, Fish, or Sausage-White Biscuit-half a pound of Fruit Marmalade to each ten persons.

The above is to be served up during the voyages, and on the Lake and Land transit, circumstances permitting.

Saloon Passengers will be expected to form into Messes, and the Gentlemen in rotation to receive and serve up their own meals from the Cooks (in the mantake State Rooms will have a Steward provided who ner pursued in the U. S. Service). Passengers who will expect a fee of $5 from each passenger. The provisions are alike in both cases.

carried free if packed in round covered Valises or Bags One Hundred Pounds of personal Baggage will be weighing not more than 125 lb. each package; freight above that weight taken at $6 per 100 lb. Passengers

are expected to assist in packing, stowing and unloading Baggage and provisions if necessary.

Any extra charges for passports, or transit Duties to be borne by each passenger. The general Customs Business will be transacted by an agent of the Line at San Juan or San Carlos without charge.

Gentlemen Passengers, if required, will have to walk from Granada or Lake Léon to Realejo (11⁄22 or 3 days' march).

The Line provides an agent to charter vessels at Panama, Acapulco, and other Pacific Ports, so as to avoid detention at Realejo.

In the unexpected event of Vessels not being procured, $75 of the passage money and 60 days' provisions will be refunded to each passenger at Realejo, which will procure passage in the Mail Steamers which

DEAR M

SAN JUAN DE NICARAGUA [GREYTOWN], March 20, 1849. : We left New York the morning of the 20th of February in a fine little brig with one hundred and thirty-six passengers, bound to California by the untried route of Nicaragua, and under contract to be put through in sixty days. After pitching about in a gale which caught us off Bermuda, one fine morning we awoke and saw Hayti lying on our right, and all day were sailing under its bold, beautiful shores. From that time we scarcely moved a sail, but came across the Caribbean Sea direct to San Juan, with a wind always just aft, clear skies by day, and bright moonlight nights. More delicious weather I never experienced. On the morning of March 12 we made the land of the Mosquito Coast, and, running down twenty or thirty miles, came to anchor in the afternoon in a snug little harbor at the mouth of the river San Juan. I never was more surprised than at my first view of this place. I had expected it would be like Chagres, a collection of huts on some low, marshy point, and utterly destitute of everything like beauty or

interest; but I found it one of the prettiest and most charming little places it was ever my happiness to fall into. As we came in it looked just like a picture. The little bay with its three or four islands, skirted by a fine beach, on the outside of which a heavy surf was rolling, while within all was calm and still; the steep, thatchroofed cane houses clustered together at its head relieving the dense forest behind; and the dimly seen summits of the far-off mountains of Nic

aragua, made to me one of the most beautiful landscapes that I ever beheld. My heart fairly bounded with delight, and in these forests I had many a fine ramble. How strange it seems to be walking under orange, and lemon, and tamarind, and palm trees; to be picking guavas and mangos; to be breakfasting on alligator steaks and dining on wild boar! You should have seen me this morning, sitting under a cocoanut tree, from which I had shot a nut of just the right size, cutting the end with my machete, and drinking the rich, pulpy milk, watching with one eye a couple of suspiciouslooking lizards and with the other a troop of some fifty monkeys who were performing all kinds of antics for my sole amusement. I went some four or five miles into the forest, and everything about me was so strange, so different from our New England woodlands through which I have been accustomed to wander, that I felt really inclined to doubt my own identity. On one hand would be a great cactus with leaves fifteen or twenty feet long and full of bright crimson flowers, on the other long trailers hanging sixty feet from great tamarind and dyewood trees. Palms were about me the buds of which were five or six feet long. In the little swamps some beautiful varieties of calla were in bloom, and in the branches of the trees were some of the most brilliant birds you would ever see― macaws and paroquets. Now and then I would start a wild turkey, and about noon had a double shot into an immense drove of wild hogs, but both unsuccessful. I take great delight in these rambles. Every day. while some of our party are reclining in their hammocks and complaining of the heat of the sun, I am tramping through the woods with my rifle or fowling-piece on my shoulder, or paddling about the bay with fishing-rod, or exploring among the islands or up the river, getting as much enjoyment as I can out of our detention here. We have hired a little piragua by the week, and a number of pleasant days I have spent in it on the water. All kinds of fish abound here, both in the river and in the beautiful lagoon back of the village, and if I tire of catching them I can have a hunt after guavas or a shot at a pelican, or into a flock of ducks by way of variety. I doubt if I ever was in better health in my life. The mercury rang

PACIFI

OCEAN

C

Brito

del Sur

CARAGUA LAKE

so far from the end of our journey. But it is too true that although "sixty days" and thirty more have elapsed, I am no further advanced than to this old city. After a detention of three weeks at San Juan, the boiler and machinery of the steamboat which was brought with us, and had been put together, were condemned as worthless, and the company left to proceed up the SanJuan de Nic river, half in bungos and canoes,

7

CARIBBEAN

or Greytown

ing from seventy at night to eighty or eightyfive at noon, and the sea and land breezes blowing with refreshing regularity. Every morning we are down from our hammocks by sunrise and in for a bath, not regarding in the least the sharks and alligators, which may be floating within twenty feet of us.

CITY OF GRANADA, CENTRAL AMERICA, May 24, 1849. You will be surprised to receive this letter bearing this late date and written by me still

the other half on the remains of the steamboat. Band I had the sole occupancy of a bungo. Our captain, or padron, proved to be the kindest and best on the river, our boat's crew the most efficient, and we were considered the most fortunate of the company. What to many of our party was a voyage full of hardships and danger to us was the pleasantest part of our journey. The San Juan is a fine, noble river, abounding in fish, dotted with islands, and lined on each side for its whole extent with forests the exceeding beauty of which no pencil could paint or pen describe. The deep verdure of the foliage, the many brilliant flowers, the long waving palm leaves, the graceful festoons of the vines and mosses intertwining themselves in a