Our ship is docked at Charlestown. We go ashore, take an "L" road
car at City Square, and speedily reach Boston. Our friends in the
city, to whom we bade farewell a few days before, are almost
thunderstruck at seeing us. They can scarce believe their eyes. We
seem to have dropped upon them from the skies, or rather to have been
spirited back through space from the ocean. A few words clear up the
mystery. Next morning (Saturday) we say an early Mass, and hasten
back on board. But the good ship "Cretic" is in no hurry to put to
sea. She lingers for a full hour beyond the allotted time. We could
not have missed her if we tried.
* * *