There is no time, no chance for them where all moves so rapidly, though so smoothly; everything connected with water must be like itself, forcible, but clear.

That is why sea-slang is so poetical; there is a word for everything and every act, and a thing and an act for every word.
Seamen must speak quick and bold, but also with utmost precision.
They cannot reef and brace other than in a Homeric dialect,-- therefore--( Steamboat bell rings.) But I must say a quick good-by.
_M._ What, going, going back to earth after all this talk upon the other side.

Well, that is nowise Homeric, but truly modern.
J.is borne off without time for any reply, but a laugh--at himself, of course.
S.and M.retire to their state-rooms to forget the wet, the chill, and steamboat smell, in their just-bought new world of novels.
Next day, when we stopped at Cleveland, the storm was just clearing up; ascending the bluff, we had one of the finest views of the lake that could have been wished.

The varying depths of these lakes give to their surface a great variety of coloring, and beneath this wild sky and changeful light, the waters presented a kaleidoscopic variety of hues, rich, but mournful.

I admire these bluffs of red, crumbling earth.