This war is accursed
I’ll go on my yacht.”
The throne is empty:
“It’s the one best bet,
It will stay that way!”
Said little Mpret.
Applause greeted the conclusion of this little skit and Uncle Bill resumed his seat, bowing with a conqueror’s air, as if to say he knew the laurels were his. But he also knew that he had no mean competitor in Elizabeth, who now stood up and prefaced her verse.
“Every one here knows that the first sail of the season is not all joy—particularly if it is choppy, or if there is a heavy sea on and the wind falls and the craft bobs around helplessly. If you are not accustomed to the motion and you lose interest in the sights and sounds, you may also begin to lose other things as well.”
Several of those present began to laugh for they sensed the trend of Elizabeth’s prologue as referring to a sickly time Uncle Bill experienced during his first sail on troubled waters.
“My poem is called ‘Sea-sick,’” explained Elizabeth.