I have found this the way of the world.
Let one be without a friend, and see what will happen! Passing the island of Pico, after the rigging was mended, the _Spray_ stretched across to leeward of the island of St.Michael's, which she was up with early on the morning of July 26, the wind blowing hard.
Later in the day she passed the Prince of Monaco's fine steam-yacht bound to Fayal, where, on a previous voyage, the prince had slipped his cables to "escape a reception" which the padres of the island wished to give him.

Why he so dreaded the "ovation" I could not make out.

At Horta they did not know.

Since reaching the islands I had lived most luxuriously on fresh bread, butter, vegetables, and fruits of all kinds.

Plums seemed the most plentiful on the _Spray_, and these I ate without stint.