Seven Legs Across the Seas

A puzzling phase of ocean travel soon becomes apparent during a passenger ship's journey to one making his first voyage-sometimes when a vessel has been at sea not more than a few hours. He is apt to find himself at a loss to account for the absence of the many persons who crowded the deck rails of the steamship-chatting, saying good-by to friends and some bidding a final farewell to their country-before and immediately after the vessel pulled away from her dock into the harbor. After a few days, however, the mystery gradually unfolds.

Vacant chairs in the dining saloon become occupied from time to time as the journey advances; more passengers are taking part in deck amusements; new faces are seen in the social hall and smoking saloon-the ship's "family" surely grows. On voyages of from two to four weeks' duration this feature becomes even more interesting. Frequently, when the ship has reached the end of the journey, before which every one would seem to have become used to the sea, "strangers" will be observed leaving the vessel. One cannot help thinking the ship has stopped during the night hours and taken on passengers from the main. This is explained by some voyagers keeping to their cabins from the time of sailing.

Seasickness is largely responsible for this perplexing phase of water travel. Women are more affected than men, and the man who will discover a remedy for seasickness will find his name immortalized. Many women will travel for weeks on the water so sick they cannot raise their heads, yet not a complaining word will be uttered by most of them. This form of bravery seems to be the only comforting thing that accompanies the sea wreaking out its vengeance on womankind.

Six days after leaving Sandy Hook found us in Liverpool, England. Passengers disembarked early in the forenoon, who, having heard so much of England's dull atmosphere, were all surprised to find the sun shining. The orb was of a vapory appearance, though, which suggested that perhaps it had been on a sea voyage also, as there was a marked resemblance between the appearance of the sun and some of the passengers who had undergone a sick trip across. Most of us boarded a train for London.

Railway train service in England is fast, the speed on main lines being from 45 to 50 miles an hour. The passenger coaches are of compartment design, which are comfortable to ride in when only half filled, or four persons to a compartment; but when from six to eight passengers-the latter number being the full seating capacity-occupy one compartment, travel proves very uncomfortable, as there is no room to stretch one's legs in any direction, since the passengers sitting on one side face those seated on the other side. It is a case of knees to knees. Railroad fare is two and three cents a mile; a higher rate is charged for hauling freight in England than that prevailing in America. Food, however, is cheaper than on American trains.

The locomotives are small-some of them not half the tonnage of the American engine-but the driving wheels reach to the top of the boiler, which accounts for the high speed schedules of the English railroads. One misses the ringing of the locomotive bell, as there are no bells on English engines. Another feature of the English railroads that seems odd to an American is the small freight cars, which in some instances are not one-third as large as some of the American cars and trucks. Trains in England have not the solid appearance of the American train, for the reason that their wheels are not like the American wheel, but have spokes, like those of a wheelbarrow. The convenience a union railway station affords the traveling public, found in many cities of America, is much missed when visiting the metropolis of England. Naturally, numerous railways center in London, and the terminus of each seems to have been located as widely apart from each other as the boundaries of the city will allow. None of the stations seen here can favorably compare with those found in the larger cities of the United States.

The cleanliness of London's streets is the first impression one has of the premier city of Europe. And how obliging the public conveyance employees are; and the policemen, also. It is a pleasure to go about in London, as every one seems willing to answer questions, to point out to a stranger places of interest, and to make one comfortable in every sense of the word.

"London traffic," a feature of this city one often hears mentioned, is accounted for, to a large degree, by the absence of surface car lines or elevated railroads coursing the streets of London City proper, and also to the narrowness of many of the main thoroughfares. With such an immense population, one can infer the great demand placed upon 'buses, public hacks, taxicabs and private vehicles, which at once suggests light-tire traffic. Heavy trucks, loaded with all sorts of merchandise, are not seen in corresponding sections of London as one finds them in populous American centers. In the subways, or tubes, are but two tracks, which prohibit, of course, fast travel. On the other hand, sixteen underground railways intersect the city and suburbs. The atmosphere of a subway is perhaps a more cosmopolitan phase than any other of our industrial factors. Were a blind person-one familiar with our underground railway odors-to sail from New York for Europe, being ignorant of the presence of subways there, and later, in London or Paris, find himself at the entrance of a "tube," he would at once know he was at the approach of a subway by the presence of the smell, as a similar atmosphere emanates from all of them.

Street car fare is higher for long distances than in most American cities. Though short distance rides are cheaper, some of the five cent rides in America would cost fifteen cents in London. Motor 'buses, which are numerous, go a certain distance for two cents, but the next "stage" is another two-cent charge, and by the time eight or ten miles are traveled one will have paid from 10 to 15 cents. Most public conveyances are double decked. Electric trolley cars are operated outside of London City proper, and the fare on these is similar to that charged by the 'buses. One can ride a long distance in a cab for 25 cents, however.

Newspapers here generally have not the attractive nor the prosperous appearance of those in the United States. Until recently most of the London dailies sold for two cents, and even more. Periodicals and books also are more expensive in Great Britain, although the average wages paid artisans in this industry is about half those paid in America. Mechanics engaged in other trades received from $11 to $15 weekly, and consequently the British mechanic in America doubles the salary of his own country, plus other advantages. House rent, generally paid weekly, runs from $3.50 to $5. Most of the working people of London live in the suburbs, and are charged but half price-about 8 cents-for return railway tickets if bought for trains reaching the city before 8 o'clock in the morning. The government collects an income tax on all yearly salaries of $600 and over.

It looks strange to American visitors in London to see only boys engaged in keeping the streets clean. One may not quite agree with the practice of boys doing that sort of work-for the reason it looks as if men should be engaged at such employment-but the fact remains the streets are very clean. The sweepings are not put in cans, as is customary in some American cities, where they might be tipped over by mischievous boys, but iron bins are placed in the sidewalk close to the curb, into which the refuse is emptied. This custom seems much better than the American system.

Seen drawn about the streets here, close to the curb, is what one would call a street sprinkler. It is a sprinkler, but the liquid running from the pipes is a disinfectant, a carbolic acid odor being noticeable.

The sale of matches by persons who seem to be in needy circumstances, seen at almost every corner of the business sections of the city, leads one to think that they must be used even for stove fuel. The proportion of poorly dressed people is much larger than in American cities. Any of the homeless who apply for shelter are provided with sleeping accommodation by the authorities.

The price of food in a similar class of restaurants seemed more expensive in London than in New York. At a second class hotel where I stopped the rate was $1.25 for room and breakfast, but heat was not included. A fireplace in the room contained smoky, bituminous coal, and to have this lighted cost 25 cents. So with the room, fire and breakfast, the charge came to $1.50 a day.

Chairs are scattered about the London parks, and an American naturally thinks seats in public places are free, as in the United States; but one is not sitting long before a man appears and asks for a "check." The person resting then learns that it costs two cents to occupy a chair in these places. The benches, however, are free, but these are few compared to the number found in American parks. Similar conditions will be met with in some of the parks of Berlin, and also in Paris, but the resting places in the French capital are more liberally supplied with free seats.

Many men may be seen in London wearing a "plug" hat, a sack coat and trousers turned up to the ankles. Those engaged at clerical employment usually wear this sort of headgear to the office. Mechanics, also, boast of a "stove-pipe" in their wardrobes. While the high hat may be retained by some artisans as a memento of their wedding day, still many may be seen worn by this class of breadwinner when attending church services.

No people spend less time in public eating and drinking places than Americans. In Continental Europe they have their cafés, chairs and tables inside the buildings and out on the sidewalks and streets, and these are used to a large extent as offices by patrons, as proprietors furnish writing paper and ink to customers. In England they have their tea rooms, where men sit and sip tea and smoke their pipes for hours. Cake or scones are usually served with tea, an additional charge being made.

To no people more than Americans have so many heirlooms of memory been handed down by England. How the serious thought of one is aroused by a visit to Westminster Abbey or St. Paul's Cathedral; how youthful days stand before one, so to speak, when a visit is made to London Bridge, Hyde Park, the Tower, the great British Museum, or to historic places in and about the city where great Englishmen lived and died.

Hearing so much of the English Parliament building, one is led to believe that he will see the best legislative structure in the world when his eyes rest on this historical edifice. He may see in his mind's eye an imposing structure of white marble or granite built on an elevated plot of land, as most capitols are, rich with ornamentation and strikingly imposing. But, on the contrary, the building, located on the River Thames, is rather medi?val in appearance. America is far behind some of the European countries in art galleries, good roads, docks, and splendid cathedrals, but there are features of the United States which neither Europe nor other divisions of the world can equal. For instance, no capitol can compare with the admirable appearance of the United States' legislative building; in no country will one find such splendid municipal parks as are found in some American cities. We have not seen Hagenbeck's Zoo in Hamburg, Germany, but, apart from that city, Bronx Zoo in New York is foremost of those seen in other cities; the Museum of Natural History in Gotham is unexcelled; our great bridges are unequaled; the interior of the Congressional Library in Washington, D. C., will stand comparison with any, and the inspiring Washington Monument, also located in the national capital, stands alone when dealing with campaniles, towers, and pagodas. To the foregoing "prides" of the new world may be added towering Mariposa Big Tree Grove, peerless Yosemite Valley, wonderful Yellowstone Park and the marvelous Grand Canyon of Arizona.

After a short stay in London we boarded a "boat train"-an English travel convenience-for Southampton, from which port the steamship on which we had booked passage sailed for South America.