Tuesday, October 8th

Westerly wind still prevailing and the variation brings us a little to the South of West. Latitude I degree 41 minutes N. The breeze is delightfully cool considering our situation on the earth's surface. After tea Neptune's Secretary' came aboard in the blazing tar barrel having first hailed the ship, answered by the Chief Mate, who stood on the poop ladder in proper form with a speaking-trumpet. A figure dressed in dark flowing garments and smelling fearfully of tar came elbowing through the crowd of curious passengers on the poop to the Captain, and drawing a tarry page 43satchel from beneath his clothes, presented the Captain with a budget of letters—one for himself and others addressed to several passengers—all being to the effect that 'their father' Neptune would pay them a visit on the morrow.

(Original is appended, which runs as follows:

The Line.

Most loving son and daughter,

Some of my Tritons having hinted to me that you are about to enter my dominions, and as it has been my law time out of mind, for all the uninitiated to pay a toll, I shall attend upon you in person at the proper time to claim the same. My wife and family join in hoping that you have had a pleasant passage hitherto, and that it may continue so to the end.

Ever your loving parent

Neptunus.

Addressed to Mr Ward & Broth.)

Soon after Neptune's fiery chariot was seen drifting away. Much curiosity and consternation among the passengers fore and aft as to the probable events of the 'Crossing the Line'. On deck till late playing a round of rhyme impromptu. Some verses being better suited to the hour of midnight than the ears of ladies, to our horror we discovered afterwards must have been all heard by two ladies who were sitting in a dark corner not far off.