Mr. and Mrs. Harry Walmars, jun., called, and had private theatricals in the passage. Dried-ginger parties were held about the invalid's berth, poems were composed, and conundrums circulated. A little newspaper was concocted, replete with wit and spirit, by these secluded ladies, and called the 'Sherald,' to distinguish it from the 'Herald,' got up by sundry gentlemen whose shining hours were devoted to flirtation, cards, and wine.
'Perfect gentlemen, I assure you, my dear; for, drunk or sober, they wear yellow kids from morning till night, smoke the best cigars, and dance divinely,' as Mrs. Twaddle said, sitting erect in the saloon, shrouded in fur and velvet, with five diamond-rings well displayed, as she recounted the diseases she had enjoyed, and did the honours of a remarkable work-basket, containing eight different sorts of scissors.
'We shall be in to-morrow, so you'd better be digging up the treasures you have buried, you old magpie,' said Mat, appearing to the pensive Livy on the eleventh day.
'The sun is out; come on deck, and help us get up the last edition of our paper. How will this do? Query—If steamers are named the "Asia," the "Russia," and the "Scotia," why not call one the "Nausea?"' added Amanda, popping her head into the den. Lavinia threw a pillow at her, but the undaunted joker continued—
'Also this: Financial—This being a feminine paper, gold is no longer at Pa, but at Ma.'
'Good! Add this: Argument in favour of the Superiority of Women—The sluggard was not told to go to his uncle.'
'Thank you,' and Amanda departed to twine with her forty-third bosom friend, while Lavinia disinterred, from holes and corners of her berth, money, nuts, and raisins; books, biscuits, and literary efforts much the worse for deluges of soap and daubs of butter.
The cry of 'Land!' on the morrow caused passengers unseen before to appear like worms after a shower; all heroically did up their back hair, put on their best suits, and walked forth with the delusive hope that no one would know how ill they had been.
A French Marquis, with a sickly little son, whose diet of fried potatoes and sour wine accounted for his having the temper of a young fiend, appeared, and were made much of by dear, title-loving Americans.
A Spanish opera-singer, stout, saffron-coloured, and imperious, likewise emerged from obscurity, with a meek little husband, who waited on her like a servant, and a big bald parrot, who swore like a trooper.