y face."

"I wonder which would prove the tougher morsel of the two," said Mr.
Hawke, raising his languid head from the bench before him, and whose
love of fun overcame the deadly pangs of sea-sickness.

"A dish of good beefsteaks from the Crown Inn would be worth them both,
friend," said Adam Mansel, who, getting better of the sea-sickness, like
Craigie, began to feel the pangs of hunger.

"You may keep the dish, mister," returned Craigie, laughing; "give me
the grub."

"Ah, how bitter!" groaned James Hawke, raising himself up from the
furled sail which had formed his bed, and yielding to the terrible
nausea that oppressed him.

"Ay, ay, my lad," said an ancient mariner, on whose tanned face time and
exposure to sun and storm had traced a thousand hieroglyphics;
"nothing's sweet that's so contrary to natur'. Among the bitter things
of life, there's scarcely a worse than the one that now troubles you.
Sick at sea,--well on shore; so there's comfort for you!"

"Cold comfort," sighed the boy, as he again fell prostrate on the wet
sail. A huge billow broke over the side of the boat, and deluged him
with brine. He did not heed it, having again relapsed into his former
insensible state.

"The bucket aft," shouted Palmer. "It's wanted to bale the boat."

"The bucket's engaged," said Craigie, bowing with ludicrous politeness,
to poor Hannah, whose head he was supporting, "I must first attend to
the lady."

The patience of the handsome young Quaker, under existing difficulties,
was highly amusing. He bore the infliction of the prevailing malady with
such a benign air of resignation, that it was quite edifying. Wiping the
salt water from his face with a pocket-handkerchief of snowy whiteness,
he exclaimed, turning to Flora, who was sitting at his feet with Josey
in her arms, "Friend Flora, this sea-sickness is an evil emetic. It
tries a man's temper, and makes him guilty of the crime of wishing
himself at the bottom of the sea."

"If you could rap out a good round oath or two, Mister Quaker, without
choking yourself, it would do you a power of good," said Craigie.
"What's the use of a big man putting up with the like o' that, like a
weak gall--women were made to bear--man to resist."

"The Devil, and he will flee from them," said Adam.

"You smooth-faced, unshaved fellows, have him always at your elbow,"
said Craigie. "He teaches you long prayers--us big oaths. I wonder which
cargo is the best to take to heaven."