Chapter IX. The Passengers - Page 2

I shall do without them."

"I've got a box of Brandeth's pills downstairs," said Clinton. "You're welcome to a part of them, I'm sure."

"They wouldn't do! What can you be thinking of, young man? Do you think there's no difference between pills?"

"I'm sure I can't tell, don't you know?"

"Young man, you are sadly ignorant," said Timmins, severely. "I've got five other kinds of pills downstairs, for different maladies I am subject to, but none of them will take the place of Remedial pills."

"Will any of them cure seasickness?" asked the dude, eagerly.

"I can give you a remedy for seasickness, Mr. Clinton," said Mr. Holdfast, the mate, who chanced to overhear the inquiry.

"What is it, Mr. Holdfast? I shall be really grateful, I assure you, if you can cure that beastly malady."

"Swallow a piece of raw salt pork about an inch square," said the mate gravely, "and follow it up by a glass of sea water, taken at a gulp."

"That's horrid, awfully horrid!" gasped Clinton, shuddering, and looking very pale. "It actually makes me sick to think of it, don't you know," and he retreated to the cabin, with one hand pressed on his stomach.

"That young man's a fool!" said Mr. Timmins. "He knows no more about pills than a baby."

"Nor do I, Mr. Timmins," said Harry, smiling.

"I pity you then. My life has been saved several times by pills."

"I'd rather live without them."

Marmaduke sadly shook his head as he walked away.

"That man's a walking drug store," said the mate, looking after him. "I'd rather go to Davy's locker, and be done with it, than to fill myself up with pills and potions."

"You're looking chipper, my boy," said a newcomer, in a nasal voice. "Haven't been seasick, I guess."

Harry recognized the voice of the Yankee inventor, Jonathan Stubbs.

"No, sir; I have had very little trouble."

"I'm goin' to get up a cure for seasickness when I have time--a kind of a self-acting, automatic belt--I guess there'd be plenty of money in it."

"It would be a great blessing, Mr. Stubbs. Poor Mr. Clinton would no doubt be glad to buy it."

"Do you mean that languishin' creeter with an eyeglass and spindle legs? What are such fellows made for?"

"Rather for ornament than use," answered Harry, gravely.

The Yankee burst into a loud guffaw, and regarded Harry's remark a capital joke.

The voyage was to be a long one, and after a couple of weeks they all had their sea legs on. All had become acquainted, and settled down to a regular routine. But the