Eine Feste Burg (A Mighty Fortress is Our God) by Martin Luther.

 

A beautiful Sabbath morning. The sea in ripples, the sun shining and nothing but pure clear water and sky as far as the eye can see. The boat has hardly a swell, and, if it was not for the water, which you can see through the railing as we pass through it, we would not know that we are moving.

Schatzie and I arose early, band playing “Eine Feste Burg,” and after a light breakfast, we basked in the sunshine on deck and had a quiet one-half hour of reading and meditation. It was grand.

At 9:30, we passed an Italian steamer, the St. George, loaded with emigrants for the U.S.A., pure white steamer, (it looked pure white in the distance). Of course, everybody rushed for the glasses (not the Munchener, but the glasses.)

The morning passed quickly, on deck of the second cabin, an Italian priest had an altar set up with two palms on it (Palm Sunday to-day) and burning candles. He preached in Italian, so we could not understand him.

Mama and Emily had their reading in the cabin. It is needless to say that with such beautiful weather, we enjoyed the day and our meals. Just imagine a large expand of deep blue water slightly rippled, with the sunshine dancing on them and casting reflections like so many diamonds. It is grand.