Читать книгу An Australian Ramble; Or, A Summer in Australia онлайн

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It was not till Sunday morning that we left Plymouth, instead of Saturday. The fact was we had a tremendous addition in the shape of passengers and luggage to take on board, as all the people from the North come viâ Plymouth, besides the London passengers who are glad to escape the dangers of the Channel. On Sunday morning we had a short service in what is termed the drawing-room. The bishop, of course, was a colonial (you never go to sea without meeting one), and wore his official robes, though his reading-desk was but a small table, which was covered by the British flag. The bishop followed up the prayers with a five minutes’ address, in which he said that a ship was like the world. In the world we were exposed to temptation, and so it was on board a ship. We were exposed to temptations from our fellow-passengers—an unkind reflection on some of us, I thought. Asking the purser what, from his wide experience of life on a ship, the peculiar form of temptation to which we were exposed was, his reply was ‘whisky and soda’—a form of temptation of which, apparently, the bishop had nothing to say. The bishop does not interest me greatly, though he has kindly volunteered to read prayers every morning. The air of the bishop’s lady is slightly subdued, as if the weight of her dignity were too much; she reads Church papers, whilst he evidently enjoys his novel.