This is the fourth day out. I have been able to eat to-day. I am feeling very hungry.
I find that all the boys have been obliged to keep their rooms, except George Howe, who is in the steerage.
How fearful I am we shall have another night like that! How glad I shall be to see land again! The land is the place, after all. I wish I were sure we would have good weather, when we return.
Your thoughtful son,
Thomas Toby.
P. S. Three days after. I am well now. I never felt so bright and happy in my life. The steward says that people are seldom sick twice during the same voyage. An ocean trip is just the thing, after all.
There were a few rather odd characters among the passengers: among them a portly, self-satisfied Englishman, returning from a tour of the States, with an increased respect for fine old English society; a glib-tongued Frenchman, who was delighted with “Ze States,—deelightéd!” and whose talk was like a row of exclamation points; and a sentimental Italian fiddler, in very poor dress, going back to the beauties of Naples and the dreamy airs and skies of “Etalee.”
Tommy Toby seemed to gravitate towards these people, when his sea-sickness was over.
“I likes zis American poy,” said the Frenchman. “Intelegent! Has ze activitee; agilitee; very great prom-ese!”