536 LIFE ON THE MISSISSIPPI. and yet there are reasons why it might not really be. When one makes Bis first voyage in a ship, it is an experience which mnltitu- dinously bristles with striking novelties; novelties which are in such sharp contrast with all this person's former experiences that they take a seemingly deathless grip upon his imagination and memory. By tongue or pen he can make a landsman live that strange and stirring voyage over with him; make him see it all and feel it all But if he wait 1 If he make ten voyages in succession—what then? Why, the thing has lost colour, snap, surprise; and has become commonplace. The man would have nothing to tell that would quicken a landsman's pulse. Years ago, I talked with a couple of the Vicksburg non-combatants —a man and his wife. Left to tell their story in their own way, those people told it without fire, almost without interest. A week of their wonderful life there would have made their tongues eloquent for ever perhaps ; but they had six weeks of it, and that wore the novelty all out; they got used to being bomb-shelled out of home and into the ground; the matter became commonplace. After that, the possibility of their ever being startlingly interesting in their talks about it was gone. What the man said was to thig effect:— * It got to be Sunday all the time. Seven Sundays in the week—to us, anyway. We hadn't anything to do, and time hung heavy. Seven Sun- days, and all of them broken up at one time or another, in the day or in the night, by a few hours of the awful storm of fire and thunder and iron. At first we used to shin for the holes a good deal faster than we did afterwards. The first time, I forgot the children, and Maria fetched them both along. When she was all safe hi the cave she fainted. Two or three weeks after- wards, when she was running for the holes, one morning, through a shell* shower, a big shell burst near her, and covered her all over with dirt, and a piece of the iron carried away her game-bag of false hair from the back of her head. Well, she stopped to get that game-bag before she shoved along again! Was getting used to things already, you see. We all got so that we coold tell a good deal about shells; and after that we didn't always go under shelter if it was a light shower. TJs men would loaf around and talk; and a man would say,* There she goes!' and name the kind of shell it was from tbesaand of it, and go on talking—if there wasn't any danger from it. If a shell -was bursting close over us, we stopped talking and stood still;—un- comfortable, yes, but it wasn't safe to move. When it let go, we went on