Upon my
return visit to Dunfermline this dear old fellow, when he came to see
me, told me it was the saddest parting he had ever witnessed.
We sailed from the Broomielaw of Glasgow in the 800-ton sailing ship
Wiscasset. During the seven weeks of the voyage, I came to know the
sailors quite well, learned the names of the ropes, and was able to
direct the passengers to answer the call of the boatswain, for the
ship being undermanned, the aid of the passengers was urgently
required. In consequence I was invited by the sailors to participate
on Sundays, in the one delicacy of the sailors' mess, plum duff. I
left the ship with sincere regret.
The arrival at New York was bewildering. I had been taken to see the
Queen at Edinburgh, but that was the extent of my travels before
emigrating. Glasgow we had not time to see before we sailed. New York
was the first great hive of human industry among the inhabitants of
which I had mingled, and the bustle and excitement of it overwhelmed
me. The incident of our stay in New York which impressed me most
occurred while I was walking through Bowling Green at Castle Garden. I
was caught up in the arms of one of the Wiscasset sailors, Robert
Barryman, who was decked out in regular Jackashore fashion, with blue
jacket and white trousers.
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