The Steam-Packet: A Tale of the River and the Ocean — page 167: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

— 126 THE STEAM PACKET, deserve my fate—I deserve my fate !—What can I do ?—What can { wigs Why, you seem to say anything but your prayers, , Miss,” cried the old dowager, who was annoyed by this wailing just above her head. ‘© Ah! dear—dear !” continued the young lady, in a tone of intense agony; ‘‘ what will become of me ?—Oh! I have been a great sinner 3 I have refused all the manifestations of Providence in my favour !— When heaven sent me the tall lieutenant of marines with the red whiskers, I turned a deaf ear to him. When he asked me to meet him underneath the Charter-house wall, I went and walked with Henry Oxley instead. Oh! I have been a great stnner—I know I have!” _ “ Alas! my poor head !” exclaimed Mrs. Bilpals: ‘“‘ won’t that sii have done her droning ?” ‘“‘ Stewardess !”’ screamed the dowager. “'Ye—e—es, ma’am,”’ said that official, who was lying all in a heap in one corner of the cabin ;—‘* Ye—e—es?”’ “Pray ask that young lady,—Miss Wilkins, I think,’’ said the dowager,—‘‘ just to have the kindness to hold her silly tongue; and, I say, dear, good stewardess, pray see about getting me a leetle—leetle drop of brandy—do, there ’s a dear!” | ‘“Oh! don’t ta—a—lk to me, ma’am,” cried the stewardess; ‘I can’t abear it !’”’—and she relapsed into a stubborn silence, from which no entreaties nor threats could rouse her. ** Belinda, my dear,” said Mrs. Pifpaf, in a voice so melancholy that it seemed like that of one at the point of death, ‘“‘ do get me my smell- ing bottle ;—my poor head is distracted !”’ _“ Dear mamma, I really can’t get up,” answered the affoxtiabete daughter, “‘ aoe smolurig oles, poor heads, and nonsense ; for if I do I shall only fall down again.’ Thus the miseries of the ladies were enhanced by their eubhcma selfishness in the moment of tribulation. The vessel now tossed and pitched fearfully—the sea broke over the deck—and the rush of waters appeared, as it was heard in the cabins, as if the ocean were every in- stant about to engulph the ship. The trampling of the busy feet of the sailors over-head,—the loud voice of the captain rising above the roar of the storm, as he issued his orders,—the still even, and unabated din of the paddle-wheels,—the noise of the engine—the fury of the blast, now howling like a lion in the distance—now whining like a dog, and then whistling with the same shrill note which the human lips can pro- duce—and the bellowing of the waters as they dashed past the ship,— all these combined.to strike terror into the hearts of the females. 99 Gomicbooks (E(0) yh Ce ae