They have also that other misery of packing and unpacking trunks--of running the distressing gauntlet of custom-houses--of the anxieties attendant upon getting a mass of baggage from point to point on land in safety.
I had rather sail with a whole brigade of patriarchs than suffer so.
We never packed our trunks but twice--when we sailed from New York, and when we returned to it.

Whenever we made a land journey, we estimated how many days we should be gone and what amount of clothing we should need, figured it down to a mathematical nicety, packed a valise or two accordingly, and left the trunks on board.

We chose our comrades from among our old, tried friends, and started.

We were never dependent upon strangers for companionship.

We often had occasion to pity Americans whom we found traveling drearily among strangers with no friends to exchange pains and pleasures with.