Around the World in Seventy-Two Days | Page 2

There is a chance if the Augusta Victoria, which sails the morning
afterwards, has rough weather of your failing to connect with the mail
train."

"I will take my chances on the Augusta Victoria, and save one extra
day," I said.
The next morning I went to Ghormley, the fashionable dressmaker, to
order a dress. It was after eleven o'clock when I got there and it took
but very few moments to tell him what I wanted.
I always have a comfortable feeling that nothing is impossible if one
applies a certain amount of energy in the right direction. When I want
things done, which is always at the last moment, and I am met with
such an answer: "It's too late. I hardly think it can be done;" I simply
say:
"Nonsense! If you want to do it, you can do it. The question is, do you
want to do it?"
I have never met the man or woman yet who was not aroused by that
answer into doing their very best.
If we want good work from others or wish to accomplish anything
ourselves, it will never do to harbor a doubt as to the result of an
enterprise.
So, when I went to Ghormley's, I said to him: "I want a dress by this
evening."
"Very well," he answered as unconcernedly as if it were an everyday
thing for a young woman to order a gown on a few hours' notice.
"I want a dress that will stand constant wear for three months," I added,
and then let the responsibility rest on him.
Bringing out several different materials he threw them in artistic folds
over a small table, studying the effect in a pier glass before which he
stood.
He did not become nervous or hurried. All the time that he was trying
the different effects of the materials, he kept up a lively and half

humorous conversation. In a few moments he had selected a plain blue
broadcloth and a quiet plaid camel's-hair as the most durable and
suitable combination for a traveling gown.
Before I left, probably one o'clock, I had my first fitting. When I
returned at five o'clock for a second fitting, the dress was finished. I
considered this promptness and speed a good omen and quite in
keeping with the project.
After leaving Ghormley's I went to a shop and ordered an ulster. Then
going to another dressmaker's, I ordered a lighter dress to carry with me
to be worn in the land where I would find summer.
I bought one hand-bag with the determination to confine my baggage to
its limit.
That night there was nothing to do but write to my few friends a line of
farewell and to pack the hand-bag.
Packing that bag was the most difficult undertaking of my life; there
was so much to go into such little space.
I got everything in at last except the extra dress. Then the question
resolved itself into this: I must either add a parcel to my baggage or go
around the world in and with one dress. I always hated parcels so I
sacrificed the dress, but I brought out a last summer's silk bodice and
after considerable squeezing managed to crush it into the hand-bag.
I think that I went away one of the most superstitious of girls. My
editor had told me the day before the trip had been decided upon of an
inauspicious dream he had had. It seemed that I came to him and told
him I was going to run a race. Doubting my ability as a runner, he
thought he turned his back so that he should not witness the race. He
heard the band play, as it does on such occasions, and heard the
applause that greeted the finish. Then I came to him with my eyes filled
with tears and said: "I have lost the race."
"I can translate that dream," I said, when he finished; "I will start to

secure some news and some one else will beat me."
When I was told the next day that I was to go around the world I felt a
prophetic awe steal over me. I feared that Time would win the race and
that I should not make the tour in eighty days or less.
Nor was my health good when I was told to go around the world in the
shortest time possible at that season of the year. For almost a year I had
been a daily sufferer from headache, and only the week previous I had
consulted a number of eminent physicians fearing that my health was
becoming impaired by too constant application to work. I had been
doing newspaper work for almost three years, during which time I had
not