Page:Aunt Jo's Scrap-Bag, Volume 2.djvu/25

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"Deluded child!" sighed Lavinia, closing her dizzy eyes upon the swaying garments on the wall, and feebly wishing she had hung herself along with them.

In the gray dawn, she was awakened by sounds of woe, and peering forth beheld the festive Matilda with one red stocking on and one off, her blonde locks wildly dishevelled, her face of a pale green, and her hands clasping lemons, cologne, and salts, as she lay with her brow upon the cool marble of the toilet table.

"How do you like it, dear?" asked the unfeeling Lavinia.

"Oh what is it? I feel as if I was dying. If somebody would only stop the swing one minute. Is it sea-sickness? It's awful, but it will do me good. Oh, yes! I hope so. I've tried every thing and feel worse and worse. Hold me! save me! Oh, I wish I hadn't come!"

"Shipmates ahoy! how are you, my loves?" and Amanda appeared rosy, calm, and gay with her pea-jacket on, skirts close reefed, hat well to windward, and every thing taut and ship-shape, for she was a fine sailor and never missed a meal.