"Thank you, captain, I believe I should much prefer to face a storm of
bullets on the land than a storm at sea; you courageous sailors really
deserve all the gold medals."
Leo, who was fond of the ocean, said to Alfonso, "Why can't we all be
sailors? What say you to this? Let us test who of our party shall lose
the fewest meals from New York to Queenstown. You and your mother or
Lucille and I?"
"Agreed," responded Alfonso, thinking it would help to keep the ladies in
good spirits.
"But what shall count for a meal?" inquired Alfonso.
"Not less than ten minutes at the table, and at dinner, soup at least."
Lucille thought Leo's idea a capital one. It was agreed that the contest
should commence with the next lunch, and that Alfonso and Leo should act
as captains for the two sides.
By this time Lucille had eaten a little toast and had sipped part of her
chocolate. A tenderloin steak and sweet omelet with French fried potatoes
were being served, when suddenly the color left her face. Another lurch
of the steamer sent a glass of ice water up her loose sleeve, and,
utterly discomfited, she begged to be excused and rushed from the table.
"Oh dear, mother, how terribly I feel; let me lie down.
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