On The Steamer

In the days when our great-grandparents went to Europe on a clipper ship carrying at most a score of voyagers and taking a month perhaps to make the crossing, those who sat day after day together, and evening after evening around the cabin lamp, became necessarily friendly; and in many instances not only for the duration of the voyage but for life. More often than not, those who had " endured the rigors" of the Atlantic together, joined forces in engaging the courier who was in those days indispensable, and set out on their Continental travels in company. Dashing to Europe and back was scarcely to be imagined, and travelers who had ventured such a distance, stayed at least a year or more. Also in those slower days of crawling across the earth's surface by post-chaise and diligence and horseback, travelers meeting in inns and elsewhere, fell literally on each other's neck at the sound of an American accent! And each retailed to the other his news of home; to which was added the news of all whom they had encountered. It is also from these " traveling ancestors" that families inherit their Continental visiting lists. Friends they made in Europe, in turn gave letters of introduction to friends coming later to America. And to them again their American hosts sent letters by later American friends.

But to-day when going to Europe is of scarcely greater importance than going into another State, and when the passenger list numbers hundreds, " making friends with strangers" is the last thing the great-grandchildren of those earlier travelers would think of.

It may be pretty accurately said that the faster and bigger the ship, the less likely one is to speak to strangers, and yet—as always—circumstances alter cases. Because the Worldlys, the Oldnames, the Eminents, —all those who are innately exclusive—never " pick up" acquaintances on shipboard, it does not follow that no fashionable and well-born people ever drift into acquaintanceship on European-American steamers of to-day—but they are at least not apt to do so. Many in fact take the ocean-crossing as a rest-cure and stay in their cabins the whole voyage. The Worldlys always have their meals served in their own " drawing-room" and have their deck chairs placed so that no one is very near them, and keep to themselves except when they invite friends of their own to play bridge or take dinner or lunch with them.

But because the Worldlys and the Eminents—and the Snobsnifts who copy them—stay in their cabins, sit in segregated chairs and speak to no one except the handful of their personal friends or acquaintances who happen to be on board, it does not follow that the Smiths, Joneses and Robinsons are not enlarging their acquaintance with every revolution of the screws. And if you happen to like to be talked to by strangers, and if they in turn like to talk to you, it can not be said that there is any rule of etiquette against it.