There's nobody to explain to her
down there."
"They say that you don't feel the motion half so much in the bottom of
the ship," said Katy. "Perhaps she hasn't noticed it at all. Dear me,
how good something smells! I wish they would bring us something to eat."
A good many passengers had come up by this time; and Robert, the deck
steward, was going about, tray in hand, taking orders for lunch. Amy and
Katy both felt suddenly ravenous; and when Mrs. Ashe awhile later was
helped up the stairs, she was amazed to find them eating cold beef and
roasted potatoes, with the finest appetites in the world. "They had
served out their apprenticeships," the kindly old captain told them,
"and were made free of the nautical guild from that time on." So it
proved; for after these two bad days none of the party were sick again
during the voyage.
Amy had a clamorous appetite for stories as well as for cold beef; and
to appease this craving, Katy started a sort of ocean serial, called
"The History of Violet and Emma," which she meant to make last till they
got to Liverpool, but which in reality lasted much longer. It might with
equal propriety have been called "The Adventures of two little Girls who
didn't have any Adventures," for nothing in particular happened to
either Violet or Emma during the whole course of their long-drawn-out
history. Amy, however, found them perfectly enchanting, and was never
weary of hearing how they went to school and came home again, how they
got into scrapes and got out of them, how they made good resolutions and
broke them, about their Christmas presents and birthday treats, and what
they said and how they felt.
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