A gentleman from San Francisco, who is never named by name, since, as the author notes, no one in Naples or Capri remembers his name, he goes with his wife and daughter to the Old World for two whole years, to have fun and travel. He worked hard and is now rich enough to allow himself such a vacation.
At the end of November, the famous Atlantis, resembling a huge hotel with all amenities, sets sail. Life on the boat goes measuredly: get up early, drink coffee, cocoa, chocolate, take baths, do gymnastics, walk along the decks to stimulate appetite; then they go to the first breakfast; after breakfast they read newspapers and calmly wait for a second breakfast; the next two hours are devoted to rest - all decks are lined with long reed chairs, on which travelers covered by blankets lie looking into the cloudy sky; then tea with cookies, and in the evening, that which is the main goal of this whole existence is lunch.
A beautiful orchestra elegantly and tirelessly plays in a huge hall, the waves of the terrible ocean go behind its walls with a roar, but the ladies and men in tuxedos and tuxedos do not think about it.After lunch, dances begin in the ballroom, men in the bar smoke cigars, drink liquors, and they are served by blacks in red coats.
Finally, the ship arrives in Naples, the lord's family from San Francisco stops at an expensive hotel, and here their life also goes according to the usual order: early in the morning - breakfast, then - visiting museums and cathedrals, lunch, tea, then - preparation for dinner and in the evening - a hearty dinner. However, December in Naples turned out to be rainy this year: wind, rain, dirt on the streets. And the family of the gentleman from San Francisco decides to go to the island of Capri, where, as everyone assures them, it is warm, sunny and lemons bloom.
A small steamboat, waddling in waves from side to side, carries the gentleman from San Francisco with his family, who are seriously suffering from seasickness, to Capri. The funicular delivers them to a small stone town on the top of the mountain, they are located in a hotel where everyone welcomes them cordially, and get ready for dinner, having already fully recovered from seasickness. Having dressed before his wife and daughter, the gentleman from San Francisco goes to a cozy, quiet reading room of the hotel, opens a newspaper - and suddenly lines flash before his eyes, his pince-nez flies off his nose, and his body wriggles to the floor. The other hotelier who was present at the same time screams into the dining room, everyone jumps up, the owner tries to reassure the guests, but the evening is already irreparably spoiled.
The gentleman from San Francisco is being transferred to the smallest and worst room; his wife, daughter, and servants stand and look at him, and here is what they expected and feared was done - he is dying.The master’s wife from San Francisco asks the owner to allow the body to be transferred to their apartments, but the owner refuses: he appreciates these numbers too much, and tourists would start to avoid them, as Capri would have known about the incident. Here the coffin is also impossible to get - the owner can offer a long box from under the bottles of soda water.
At dawn, the cabman takes the body of the lord from San Francisco to the pier, the steamboat carries him across the Gulf of Naples, and the same Atlantis, on which he arrived with honor in the Old World, now carries him, dead, in a tarred coffin, hidden from the living deep down in a black hold. Meanwhile, on the decks the same life continues as before, just as everyone has breakfast and lunch, and the ocean, worrying behind the windows of the windows, is still terrible.
