"Comfortably to housekeeping for the next two weeks."
When Ishmael entered the professor was just in the act of setting up the three books that comprised the sea library, carefully arranging them on a tiny circular shelf in the corner. One of the stateroom stewards who stood watching the "landlubber's" operations sarcastically said:
"How long, friend, do you expect them books to stand there?"
"Until my master takes them down, sir," politely answered the professor.
"Well, now, they'll stand there maybe until we get out among the big waves; when, at the first lurch of the ship, down they'll tumble upon somebody's head."
"'Sufficient unto the day—'" said the professor, persevering in his housekeeping arrangements. All that day there was nothing to threaten the equilibrium of the books. A splendid first day's sail they had. The sky was clear and bright; the sea serene and sparkling; the wind fresh and fair; and the motion of the steamer smooth and swift. Our travelers, despite the care at the bottom of their hearts, enjoyed it immensely. Who, with a remnant of hope remaining to them, can fail to sympathize with the beauty, glory, and rapture of Nature in her best moods?
At dinner they feasted with such good appetites as to call forth a jocose remark from a fellow-passenger who seemed to be an experienced voyager. He proved, in fact, to be a retired sea- captain, who was making this voyage partly for business, partly for pleasure. He was an unusually tall and stout old gentleman, with a stately carriage, a full, red face, and gray hair and beard.
"That is right. Go it while you're well, friends! For in all human probability this is the last comfortable meal you will enjoy for many a day," he said. Those whom he addressed looked up in surprise and smiled in doubt.
The splendid sunny day was followed by a brilliant starlight night, in which all the favorable circumstances of the voyage, so far, continued.
After tea the passengers went on deck to enjoy the beauty of the evening.