A glance at the superintendent's register,
as you go in, shows that the "PHARAOH family" furnish the largest number
of inmates.
Look at this caravan about to cross the Desert. The camels are going
instead of coming. They are the ships of the desert--hardships. The
leading camel has a bell appended to his neck, which at this moment is
ringing for Sahara. We wish them good luck on their journey.
This gentleman on the rear camel (which you notice carries a red flag to
prevent collision), who is jauntily attired in nankeen trousers and a
blue cotton umbrella, is a physician from New Jersey, whose sands of
life have nearly run out. He will get plenty more by to-morrow.
A STORM OFF HATTERAS.
A terrific sight!
You can't sec anything, it is so thick. The sea runs mountain high. The
gallant ship, with creaking masts, drives before the gale and plunges
over the crests of the foaming billows. That is what she was built for.
The thunder peals crash after crash, and occasionally crash before
crash. The lightning's lurid glare illumines, ever and anon, the scene.
The stoutest hold their breath, and if they can't do that, they hold to
a belaying-pin, while the awe-stricken crew in vain attempt to pump out
the hold.
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