the middle of it, and laughed until I ached. I wonder why it is so awfully funny to see some other person seasick!
Bess didn't even try to laugh,—or, maybe she did try but it didn't show any on the surface, and as soon as I could get my breath, I was sorry I had laughed, and I got up and made her sit down on the rope. Then I took Twinny, both of her, and trotted them into the cabin and told them stories, so that Bess could have it out with herself. They wanted to send Aunt Fannie to her; but I told them to let her alone and she would be all right when she'd had time to think it over.
After a while I took them back to their mother, and then I went out to the bow again, and there was Bess, still on the coil of rope, and when I bent over her, I found that she was sound asleep,—and she didn't waken up until we had turned to go into the harbor, and then I went and called her.
The boat was still rolling a good deal, but she sat up, as fresh and chipper as could be.
"Snoozer!" I said.
"Whoo," she said, stretching her arms; "why,
