time the sun shone in the zenith for the second time, the _modus
operandi_ was completely inverted, and we thinned many inches in as
many minutes. All the preparations for carrying out our original
intentions stared us in the face, but we turned anything but a
hungry eye upon them; to tell the prosaic truth we were both
sea-sick. Not a fair knock down exactly, for while on deck I was all
right. What started the malady was the sleeping cabin--such an
abomination of closeness, stuffiness, and all the odours under the
sun I never smelt--it was literally enough to knock one down. Not
that the cabins themselves are badly ventilated, but they vent into
the gangways outside, which in bad weather are themselves very short
of fresh air. Only on two days were we able to have our port-hole
open, and then not for the whole day. The first day on board was
very pleasant, nice weather, and lots of excitement in watching the
different coasts we passed, and studying our fellow passengers. We
were never out of sight of land until it got too dark to see it.
Before England was hull down, the Isle of Man was hull up, and then
before that faded, the coast of Ireland would have been in sight had
it not been invisible. When daylight went down a breeze sprang up,
blowing steadily from the westward, still it was all very jolly, and
we went to bed very comfortably and slept very soundly till we woke
up. The day had just broken, and it was a fine breezy morning. At
first I was delighted to feel myself dancing about. I sat up and
looked out of my port-hole and watched the sea for a bit; suddenly
she rose to an extra big one; I could feel her "tilting up," and I
had to lean forward a bit to maintain my balance, then the stern
tilted up and I leant back a good long way, then the "other end of
her" rose again, higher still, but I only leant further back, and by
the time it was all over I had resumed an horizontal position, and
resolved, like the man in "Happy Thoughts," not to move again