"Why, Teddy Terry!" was the surprised reply, "you said your own self, jus' a teenty time ago, that you liked decks lots better'n our gardens!"
"Well, gar—gardens don't make you feel so—so sort of queer right here!" said Ted, laying his chubby hand on his chest. "Don't you feel something funny inside?"
"Well, I don't feel real good, Teddy, but—let's—oh, let's—I must go and ask Mamma what makes me feel so queer." And suddenly turning from the rail, the little girl, who had never before had such strange sensations, staggered over to her mother's side, and with pale face begged to go and lie down.
Teddy followed her, equally white and fearful, and Mamma and Papa at once led them down the stairs to the state-rooms.
"Poor little tots!" said Papa; "you're only having your first experience of sea-sickness! It won't last long."
Teddy and Polly didn't care how long or how short things might last, if only they could just that minute feel better. But the "funny feeling" relieved itself in the usual way very soon, and our little couple were put into their berths and comforted and petted until they fell asleep, and as they slept poor Papa and Mamma had their little turn at the same kind of discomfort, and, when they were relieved, followed the children's example and took a long nap. They didn't care for dinner that night, either of the party, and in fact very few of the passengers went to the dining-saloon, for the steamer was having such a wild frolic and dance on the waves that things were hardly comfortable on deck or in the saloons, and the stewardesses and stewards were very busy all night, and for all the next day, because the gale lasted so long and made so much seasickness on board that nobody felt very happy, you see.
