the market, and to get some photographs of Rosario; after which, breakfast, packing-up, and paying the bill occupied our time until one o’clock, when we started for the steamer, to return to Buenos Ayres.  On our arrival alongside the ‘Proveedor,’ I found that nearly all our Rosario friends had come down to the landing-place to see us off, and had brought all manner of remembrances for me and the children.  Flowers in profusion; a tame cardinal bird for Muriel; a pair of dear little long-tailed green paroquets; the skin of a seal, shot at the Alexandria colony; a beautiful poncho; an Argentine bit, whip, and stirrups; a carpincha skin; two pretty little muletas—­a sort of armadillo, very tame, and often kept in the houses here as a pet; and several other presents, all of which, when I look at them at home, will serve to remind me of the kind donors, and of the happy days spent in the Argentine Republic.

It was not long before we were off, and steaming slowly astern of the ‘Uruguay.’  This boat is not so large nor so fast as the ‘Uruguay,’ though the difference in speed does not probably amount to more than fifteen minutes in the twenty-four hours.  Her saloon and deck are not so good, but her sleeping-cabins are much larger and more comfortable.  The Italian captains are equally agreeable on both steamers, the civility is the same, and the fares and food are precisely similar, so that there is not much left to influence one in the choice of vessels.  We had a pleasant party at an excellent dinner in the evening, the captain only regretting that we had not been on board two days ago, when Mlle. P. and the opera company went down from Rosario to Buenos Ayres.  They had a very cheery evening, and some good music, which Tom told us afterwards he thoroughly enjoyed.  There were no musicians on board to-night, and not any temptation to sit up late, which was perhaps as well; one of the reasons for our going back this way being that we wished to have an opportunity of seeing the River Tigre, which we should reach in the early morning.  On the upward journey we had, to save time, embarked at Campana, which is situated above that river.

Saturday, September 23rd.—­At 4.30 a.m. the captain called me, being anxious that I should not miss any of the beauties of the Tigre.  On my arrival on deck he kindly had a chair placed for me right in the bows, provided me with rugs and wraps, and sent for some hot coffee, which was particularly acceptable, as the morning air was fresh and chilly.  The sky was flushed with rosy clouds, the forerunners of one of the most beautiful sunrises imaginable.  The river itself is narrow and monotonous, the branches of the willow-tree on either bank almost sweeping the sides of the steamer.  The centre channel is fairly deep; but we managed to run aground once, though we only drew nine feet, and in turning a sharp corner it was necessary to send a boat ashore with a rope, to pull the vessel’s head round.