sheep carcasses, en route from Australia to London. In order to
keep this meat properly, great refrigerators are necessary. This
frozen-meat trade is the source of Australia’s prosperity; before
it was inaugurated, Australian sheep were not worth much except for
their wool and tallow; old-timers in Australia remember when a sheep
carcass might be bought for a shilling. This frozen-meat trade is also
carried on between South America and England, and the result is that
the English have cheap meat. The people of the United States might
have cheap meat, also, were it not for the tariff. Our admiration
for the farmer is so great that we pay a third or half more for meat
than is necessary, in order that the farmer may receive high prices
for his live-stock. When an American goes to a meat market, would he
cheerfully pay thirty cents instead of twenty for a piece of meat were
it not for his Statesmen? I have always doubted that the people see the
advantage of a high tariff; it is the Statesmen who are able to figure
it out.... The men who thought of the frozen-meat scheme did a
lot for humanity, but probably no one knows who they are; hundreds of
men had a little to do with it.... The captain says a ship loaded
with frozen meat arrives in England from Australia or South America
every day of the year.... The “Anchises,” on its last voyage out to
Australia, was in a great storm in the Bay of Biscay, and the ship’s
doctor was seasick four days. “Tell me,” I said to the doctor today,
“how a big storm at sea looks.” “Blessed if I know,” he replied; “I was
sick in bed; I didn’t see anything of it.”... My dining-room steward
says the captain is always sick for a day or two after leaving port,
but the other ship employees deny this. They say that on leaving port
the captain has his meals served in his room, which is near the bridge,
and thus the story of seasickness started.... We have had a bad sea
all day, with drizzling rain. Not many are sick, owing to the ship’s
unusual steadiness. It rolls and pitches, but gently, and I wonder
the “Anchises” is not famous the world over for its unusual sea-going
qualities. Some ships cut up at sea, however carefully they were built,
while occasionally one will prove unusually steady. The “Maunganui” was
a big ship, and very handsome, but it had a certain little movement of
its own that was atrocious. While lying in my bed, the ship came up
under me in such a way as to make me feel as though I were hanging on a
clothesline, with the back of my head dangling against my heels....
The English have many customs and pronunciations I do not understand.
How much do you suppose a hundredweight is in England? Not a hundred
pounds, but a hundred and twelve pounds. A ton, consequently, is not
2,000 pounds, but 2,240 pounds; and this system bothers every country
with which England does business. The English also use the term guinea
in reckoning money, although there is no such coin, nor is English
paper money issued in guineas. A guinea is as much more than $5 as a
pound is less. If the people of the United States should invent a slang
term meaning $1.03, and occasionally use it in reckoning money, instead
of the dollar, it would be about the same thing as the English custom
of occasionally dragging out the word guinea, and using it, to confuse
strangers.... Some Americans say, “Don’t you know?” in conversation,
and it is a very bad habit, since the term is meaningless, and soon
gets on the nerves of the listener. The English make fun of the
expression, and represent all Americans as saying “Don’t you know?” It
is a fact that too many of them do. But Australians add, “You see” to
their statements a great deal. I believe a majority of the Australians
say “Yis,” instead of “Yes,” and they have many other oddities of
speech which grate on the nerves of Americans, who believe in pure as
well as free speech.... On a rough night, the squeaks in a ship
sleeping-room are worth mentioning. Last night as I lay in bed, I made
note of the squeaks, and could distinctly count four different ones:
two for each pitch, and two for each roll. When the weather is fine,
there is no strain on the ship, and the squeaks disappear.... This
morning at 10 o’clock the captain made a calculation, and said the time
in Atchison was 10 P. M. Thursday night. He showed me how he figured
it. Atchison is in 96 degrees longitude; therefore it is six hours and
twenty-four minutes _behind_ Greenwich time. The ship today is in 80
degrees longitude, and therefore five hours and twenty minutes _ahead_
of Greenwich. To be exact, the difference in time between Atchison
and the position of the ship today is eleven hours and forty-four
minutes.... The lady who has five children and two nurses on board
says that babies should be made to mind when six months old. I told her
that in America we did not begin spanking that young; that our rule was
to spank girl babies at eight months, and boy babies at one year....
Which recalls the fact that I have lately been reading R. A. Wallace’s
“Malay Archipelago.” Wallace spent several years in that section in
hunting the orang-utan, the monkey-like animal which is most like man.
One day he killed an adult female, and found that it had a baby six or
seven weeks old. This he tried to raise, hoping to present it to the
British Museum. He found the baby orang-utan very much like a human
baby. It cried for food, or when uncomfortable, and became so badly
spoilt that he was compelled to spank it when it became four or five
months old. Unfortunately the little orang-utan contracted an illness
about this time, and all Professor Wallace could do was not sufficient
to save its life.
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 22.—A howling gale has been raging all day. On the
upper deck this afternoon, many of the passengers were soaked by a
wave which came aboard. The wind is following us, and pushing the
ship along; the sailors say that a head-wind would have resulted in as
bad a day as is usually seen at sea. The decks are slippery, and those
who go out are in constant danger of being soaked with spray. For a
wonder, I am not seasick, and spent my time talking with passengers who
have visited strange places. One man lived for a time in one of the
remote islands of the Malay archipelago, where the natives wear very
little clothing, and he says the men have the handsomest figures he
has ever seen; that the marble figures in art galleries do not equal
living examples in Borneo. The figures of the men are much superior to
the figures of the women. Occasionally a very young girl will have a
good figure, but never equal to a boy of the same age; men of thirty
have splendid figures, whereas women of that age have no figures at
all.... A bird known as the hornbill is found in Borneo. When the
female has laid a sufficient number of eggs, the male seals her up
in the nest, which is in a hollow tree, and compels her to sit until
germination takes place. While the female is a prisoner, the male feeds
her faithfully. Another bird deposits its eggs in a pile, covers them
over with sand, and leaves hatching to the sun. A half-dozen hens will
place their eggs in the same pile. When the eggs are hatched, the young
are immediately able to look after themselves.... In some of the
islands of the archipelago there are no judges, courts, or policemen,
yet the natives are well behaved, and crime is almost unknown. This, my
informant says, is probably the natural state of man; wherever crime
is rampant among savages, it has usually been introduced by members of
civilized races. In a state of nature, a man soon learns that if he
expects his rights, he must respect the rights of others; therefore if
he desires peaceable possession of his house, or his cattle, or his
wives, he must respect the property rights of others. Crime seems to be
the product of civilization, and not of savagery.... Captain Warrall
says there is nothing in the story that he becomes seasick every time
he leaves port. But he says it is a fact that when he goes to sea after
a long stay on land, he suffers with a headache for several hours.
This headache is due to the motion of the ship, and he believes most
sea-going men are affected in the same way. The second engineer told
me he had the same experience as the captain, and my room steward says
that on leaving London or Sydney he always gets a headache, which
does not entirely disappear until the second day out.... In the
old days when I was a reporter on the Atchison _Globe_, I thought it
a good item when I found a farmer’s boy with forty rabbits. I found a
better rabbit story than that today. On this ship are one hundred and
eighty thousand frozen rabbits, en route for London, every one of them
trapped. Rabbits in our country are ruined by being shot; we have never
learned the art of trapping them. I have been familiar with rabbits
all my life, but never knew a man who could trap them. In Australia,
rabbit-catching is a trade, and the rabbit-catchers have a union, which
was raising quite a disturbance while I was there, by threatening a
strike. The rabbits caught in Australia and shipped to England bring
in a tremendous sum of money annually; I have forgotten the figures,
but the total is enormous. Rabbits were imported into Australia by
members of an energetic Sports Committee. In the early days certain of
the citizens of Australia said: “Our people have no amusement; let us
import rabbits from England, that there may be something to hunt.” So
a Sports Committee was formed, and members of it held public meetings,
and passed subscription papers, and abused those who did not give. As a
result of it all, rabbits were imported from England, and they are now
a far greater pest than English sparrows are in the United States.
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 23.—Our tall pastor conducted Holy Communion services
at 7 o’clock this morning, in the music-room. There were four present:
the pastor, his wife, his nurse maid, and myself. I am a very early
riser, and this service was the only thing going on; besides, I
nearly always sympathize with a small attendance. Our pastor carries
two uniforms with him; a white one fringed with black, and another
entirely of black, which he wore this morning. I am inclined to believe
that he is Low Church. The most animated and vicious church row I
was ever familiar with started because a certain pastor insisted on
using wafers in his communion service, whereas a bossy woman in the
congregation preferred bread. Bread is Low Church; wafers represent
the High, I am told.... Although only three persons attended the
communion service, out of a total of possibly three hundred on the
ship, our pastor does not go around making sneering remarks about his
efforts not being appreciated, as do members of the Sports Committee.
I am inclined to believe that the tall pastor is right. The communion
service was advertised by posting notice of it on the bulletin
board. The passengers know about hell, and about its rewards offered
by the church; the pastor is quite right in letting them alone. As
old-fashioned children used to say, you can lead a horse to water, but
you can’t make him drink.... We feel tonight that we are almost
within sight of Durban; we are still more than two thousand miles away,
but we should be there in six more days, and we shall not mind the
last two or three, in making preparations to land. The sun came out
this afternoon, and the sea is smoother, so that we are all feeling
better.... Back of the smoking-room there is a balcony where the
passengers often sit. The young engineers also come up from the deck
below, and sit in the balcony at times, when off duty. I have become
acquainted with a number of them, and ask them questions about the
sea. They explained to me where the Pacific ocean ends, and the Indian
ocean begins. The line is somewhere in the vicinity of Melbourne, so
that Australia is partly in the Indian ocean and partly in the Pacific.
Flowing eastward from Africa, there is a great current. After reaching
the vicinity of Melbourne and Tasmania the current turns, and flows
westward five or six thousand miles. The two currents are a thousand
miles apart. The “Anchises” came out in the current flowing eastward,
and did not stop at Durban, but, on its homeward voyage, it is in the
current flowing westward. The engineers say this current probably
caused the Indian ocean to be distinguished from the Pacific....
At dinner tonight, the decline of American shipping came up. “When
I went to sea as a boy,” Captain Warrall said, “the American clipper
ships were the pride and envy of all seamen. They could sail all
around the English, and the Maine Yankees could do it today, as they
have repeatedly proven in the international yacht races. I often think
it is incorrect to speak of the decline of American shipping. Some
of the finest ships afloat should carry the stars-and-stripes, since
they are owned and controlled by American capitalists. Were it not for
the American policy of protection, the seas would glisten with the
stars and stripes. As a famous American says, ‘There’s a Reason’ for
American cargoes being carried in foreign ships. The reason is that
English seamen receive about half as much pay as your seamen receive.
The fact that you Yankees do not own ships is really another of your
cute tricks; you get your carrying done cheaper in another way.”... A
citizen of Melbourne was at the table, and he said he saw the fleet of
American warships come into that harbor a few years ago. He spoke very
highly of the crews; he was on the streets of Melbourne constantly, and
saw thousands of American sailors, but did not see one who was drunk
or rude. It is the commonest sort of thing here to hear both English
and Colonists speak in the highest possible terms of America and the
American people.... I frequently hear this, too: “You Americans
give tips too liberally.” So far as I am concerned, I only conform to
a custom established by the English. I give because it is the custom,
and give no more than seems to be necessary to prevent a riot. The
English also have an exaggerated notion of tipping in America. One of
them told me today that he understood that when a bell-boy took a guest
to a room in an American hotel, he was impudent unless he received a
dollar. Nothing in the story, of course; and many of the other stories
told of Americans over here are equally untrue and absurd.... On the
“Maunganui,” in which I sailed from New Zealand to Australia, there
was no concert. But an active, meddlesome man could have arranged one,
and organized a Sports Committee to unnecessarily bother at least
three-fourths of the passengers. Behave yourself, and let others alone,
is a good rule.... At 3 o’clock this afternoon a woman slipped into
the music-room, and began singing, playing her own accompaniments.
There is nothing quite so absurd as an amateur singer who cannot sing
much, and who is quavery and uncertain. This woman was very bad, and I
understand she is to appear at the Grand Concert arranged by the Sports
Committee.
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 24.—There is a sick woman on board, and the other
women pay her a great deal of attention. Two of them attend her
constantly, in her room and on deck, and a dozen others would gladly
do as much, if opportunity presented. Another woman passenger looks
after the sick woman’s two children.... There is also a sick man on
board. He is very ill, and I doubt if he will live to reach Liverpool.
Occasionally, on fine days, a steward brings him on deck, where he
looks pale and unhappy, and pants for breath, but as a rule he is
confined to his stuffy room, where no one sees him except the doctor.
I have never seen a sick man more completely neglected, whereas the
woman passenger who is ill receives every possible attention. The women
say the sick man prefers to be let alone, but I don’t believe it. The
sick man is a tragedy in loneliness. He came out on the “Anchises”
from London, hoping the voyage would benefit him, but it has harmed
him instead.... The sky is very brilliant at night, and we see many
shooting stars; and every time we see a shooting star we wish that
Mr. Riley will fall overboard. Mr. Riley is indulging in a great big
drunk, and I hear he has borrowed money from half the men on board,
promising to pay on arrival at Durban. Mr. Riley is a very active
member of the Sports Committee, and prominent in everything except the
Holy Communion services held every Sunday morning. I do not believe he
has heard of these, as he gambles in the smoking-room until a late hour
every night, and does not get up very early. If Mr. Riley should hear
of the early communion service in the music-room, he would certainly
advise the tall pastor as to its ceremonies, for he offers advice in
everything else. My room is near the bar, and I never go to it that
I do not hear Mr. Riley calling on the barkeeper to hurry along the
grog. Mr. Riley also has a very irritating laugh, and I have come to
dislike him as much as a menagerie monkey dislikes a boy. Last night
there was a dance held near my room, and this, in addition to Mr.
Riley and the bar, kept me awake until long after midnight.... “Of
course you know why the men wear colored socks,” a man said to me on
deck last night. “It is because colored socks do not show dirt, and
can be worn until they are filthy. I wear white socks, and probably
change them oftener than any other passenger on the ship, but I think
I am a marked man because of my white socks. I often catch the other
passengers looking at my feet in wonder.” I asked him if he also wore
a night-gown, instead of pajamas, and he said he did, whereupon we
organized a club, as I also wear white socks and a night-gown. Pajamas
do not seem enough of a change from pants and shirts, and I cannot
sleep in them; and colored socks irritate my ankles.... On the ship,
children are almost universally called kids, or kiddies, another form
of bad English which Americans deplore. There are eighteen children on
board, and the ship resembles a nursery. Even the stewards privately
complain of the incessant racket. This morning most of the passengers
shifted to the port side of the deck, but we remained on the starboard
side, because all of the children went with the crowd. “You must be
enjoying a quiet and pleasant day,” the deck steward said to us. A good
many of the passengers had their chairs shifted back to the starboard
side, and I heard them grumbling about the noise; from which I am led
to believe that if the passengers spoke their minds freely, a protest
would go up to the captain about Mr. Riley, the Sports Committee, and
the “kiddies.”... A passenger was telling today of a man he once knew
in Melbourne who took thirty drinks of whisky a day. Finally, during
an illness, the doctor advised him that he must be more temperate;
that twenty drinks a day were enough. The man tried twenty drinks a
day, but the almost total abstinence from alcohol killed him.... A
prominent citizen of Sydney, with whom I talk a great deal, says many
of his fellow-citizens believe that if the government had kept out of
railroad building, and left it to private enterprise, the country would
have many more miles of railroad, and double its present population.
Considering the resources of the country, the railroad facilities of
Australia are insignificant. There are half a dozen different railroads
running finer trains in little Kansas than may be seen in Australia.
And both freight and passenger rates are lower in Kansas than in
Australia; service is better, and the employees receive higher wages.
There is something wrong with the Australian railways, and I believe it
is government ownership.