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Life in Mexico by Frances Calderón de la Barca
page 55 of 720 (07%)
where a line of marines, drawn up to receive us, presented arms as we
entered. The morning was beautiful; little wind, but fair. We took leave of
our friends, waved our handkerchiefs to the balconies in return for signals
from scarcely-distinguishable figures, passed between the red-tinted Cabana
and the stately Morro, and were once more upon the deep, with a remembrance
behind, and a hope before us. Our _Bergantina_ is a handsome vessel, with
twenty-five guns, five officers, a doctor, chaplain, and purser, and one
hundred and fifty men.

We find the commander very attentive, and a perfect gentleman, like almost
all of his class, and though very young in appearance, he has been
twenty-nine years in the service.

25th.--The weather delightful, and the ship going at the rate of five knots
an hour. The accommodations in a brig not destined for passengers are of
course limited. There is a large cabin for the officers, separated by a
smaller one, belonging to the captain, which he has given up to us.

At seven o'clock C---n rises, and at eight, a marine sentinel, transformed
into a lady's page, whom we are taking to Mexico as porter, brings us some
very delicious chocolate. He is followed by the Captain's familiar, an
unhappy-looking individual, pale, lank, and lean, with the physiognomy of a
methodist parson, and in general appearance like a weed that has grown up
in one night. He tremblingly, and with most rueful countenance, carries a
small plate of sugar-biscuits. These originals having vacated the cabin, I
proceed to dress, an operation of some difficulty, which being performed
_tant bien que mal_, I repair upstairs, armed with book and fan, and sit on
deck till ten o'clock, when the familiar's lamentable announcement of
breakfast takes us down again. The cook being French, the _comestibles_ are
decidedly good, and were the artist a little less of an oil, and more of a
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