ON THE VOYAGE.
THE morning slipped away rapidly, and by the time the bugle blew its
summons for luncheon the little couple had explored the steamer, under
Papa's guidance, pretty thoroughly. You know children like to explore,
and go scampering about to see all that can be seen, in a new place and
amid strange surroundings, and Polly and Teddy made no exception to the
rule, you may be sure. They had looked wonderingly down from the
first-cabin deck upon the steerage deck, and had taken note of the funny
and the too often sad scenes to be found in the steerage of a ship. It
was all very interesting and very wonderful to see the emigrants of
different nationalities all gathered on the deck: some stretched out in
the sun, some eating out of dishes which Polly and Teddy thought looked
"very dirty and horrid"; some resting their tired heads on their hands,
supporting their elbows on their knees; crowds of little bits of
children, babies, and untidy-looking men and women, mingling with others
who were far more respectable in appearance, but too poor to be able to
pay more than the low steerage fare. Our children took everything in
with their bright, attentive eyes, and felt very sorry for those poor
passengers below their own clean, comfortable deck. They had made
friends with several of the sailors, and the "_little_ sailor" (the
captain's boy), and had been stopped by so many of the passengers who
wanted to have a chat with the dear little couple that they felt quite
well acquainted with everybody. They had--after the easy fashion of all
little people--scraped acquaintance with the few other children on
board, and had finally gotten tired of racing about, and were really
quite as hungry as little bears when luncheon was ready.
The luncheon in the beautiful flower-decked dining-saloon was, I will
add, another most interesting event for them; and though they felt a
little shy at first, and afraid of the attentive stewards, and of so
many strangers at a time all about them, yet I can assure you they
behaved like a little prince and princess, and nobody even guessed how
shy they were (though everybody near them did notice, I will say just
here, what cultivated little _table manners_ "that dear little couple"
possessed).
Well, it was some time since luncheon was done with, and while Papa and
Mamma were lolling back in their steamer chairs reading, Teddy and Polly
were standing close by, looking over the rail. The wind had arisen
greatly during the afternoon, and big rolling waves were chasing each
other over the water, making "soap-suds" white and foamy as Bridget and
Ann at home used to make on washing-days.
Teddy wore a little velvet traveling-cap, black, of course, to match his
velvet knickerbockers and the little jacket he wore over his white
frilled shirt with its broad white collar. Just now the wind had blown
his cap almost off his head (fortunately it couldn't blow it out to sea,
for wise Mamma had secured it with a cord to a buttonhole in his
jacket), and it was tilted a little on one side of his brown, soft
curls, and was giving his pretty face a very roguish expression. Polly
was wearing a dainty grey dress and little jacket, and a grey "Tam o'
Shanter" cap upon her sunny head. The wind had a fine time blowing her
long wavy hair about her shoulders, but her cap was as safely secured as
Ted's, so they didn't mind the pranks of the wind, which seemed to blow
harder every minute.
Although Teddy's face looked, as I have said, quite roguish, and
although Polly was chattering away, seemingly as merrily as possible,
yet neither of them _felt_ very roguish or merry, and pretty soon Teddy
said, in a sort of subdued tone: "I--I don't really think decks are nice
as gardens, do you, Polly?"
[Illustration: "Polly and Teddy made friends with the captain's little
boy."]
"Why, Teddy Terry!" was the surprised reply, "you said your own self,
jus' a teenty time ago, that you liked decks lots better'n our gardens!"
"Well, gar--gardens don't make you feel so--so sort of queer right
here!" said Ted, laying his chubby hand on his chest. "Don't you feel
something funny inside?"
"Well, I don't feel _real_ good, Teddy, but--let's--oh, let's--I must go
and ask Mamma what makes me feel so queer." And suddenly turning from
the rail, the little girl, who had never before had such strange
sensations, staggered over to her mother's side, and with pale face
begged to go and lie down.
Teddy followed her, equally white and fearful, and Mamma and Papa at
once led them down the stairs to the state-rooms.
"Poor little tots!" said Papa; "you're only having your first experience
of sea-sickness! It won't last long."
Teddy and Polly didn't care how long or how short things might last, if
only they could _just that minute_ feel better. But the "funny feeling"
relieved itself in the usual way very soon, and our little couple were
put into their berths and comforted and petted until they fell asleep,
and as they slept poor Papa and Mamma had their little turn at the same
kind of discomfort, and, when they were relieved, followed the
children's example and took a long nap. They didn't care for dinner that
night, either of the party, and in fact very few of the passengers went
to the dining-saloon, for the steamer was having such a wild frolic and
dance on the waves that things were hardly comfortable on deck or in the
saloons, and the stewardesses and stewards were very busy all night, and
for all the next day, because the gale lasted so long and made so much
seasickness on board that nobody felt very happy, you see.
[Illustration]