I recognized the place as one that I knew well;
a very dear friend had stood by me on deck, looking at this island,
some years before. It was the last land that my friend ever saw. I would
fain have sailed around it now, but a puff of fair wind coming sent us
on our course for the time some leagues beyond. At sunset, though, this
wind went down, and with the current we drifted back so much that by the
next day we were farther off on the other side. However, fair wind
coming again, we passed up inside, making thus the circuit of the island
at last.
More or less favourable winds thenceforth filled our sails, till at last
our destined port was gained.
The little town of Antonina, where my wife and Garfield had remained
over during this voyage, twelve miles up the bay from Paranagua, soon
after our arrival, was made alive with the noise of children marching to
children's own music, my "Yawcob" heading the band with a brand-new
ninety-cent organ, the most envied fellow of the whole crowd. Sorrows of
the past took flight, or were locked in the closet at home, the fittest
place for past misfortunes.
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