"If we could only sleep."
"Well, we did pretty well last night."
"Pretty well; but the cabin is so fishy and musty, and my stomach rolls over so many times in a minute, I can't sleep," complained Ralph.
"'Hark, from the tombs, a doleful sound,'" said Ben, and then laughed in spite of his discomfort. "We sit here and croak like a couple of ravens, and Marcus toots that everlasting horn; let's go below and try that," he continued.
Ralph arose and staggered to the cabin steps, said good-night to the captain and Marcus, and, followed by Ben, crept into his berth. Ben tried to sing one of the school glees to cheer himself and friend, and forget his sea-sickness.
"Oh, hush, Ben! That makes me as homesick as a cat. I tell you that little room of ours at school was an awful cosy place, after all. Just think of that bed. We used to call that hard."
"Yes, and that grate where we had a fire on cold nights."
"We used to rail at it and call it stuffy, but if we were only there now I'd feel like dancing."
Ben struck up another tune, and hummed it through, chorus and all, to try to keep from utter wretchedness.
Ralph was quiet till he finished; then he said,--