The Argosy — page 237: what you’re looking at

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

rr? 222 Fenny Morris's Voyage. as she swallowed it, that she “ blamed her for nothing: it was all over: © but just to point out to William the spot in the sea where she was laid, and she would forgive the rest.” Sitting down to her own tea with this on her conscience, and a general sense of loathing in her soul, Jenny’s — prospect of breakfasting was rather weak. A succession of something like brays broke upon her ear, followed by stifled expletives about ‘‘murder” and ‘ poison” and “‘death at your door,” which she discovered were the reproaches of Mr. Bumble to the stranger for the strong remedy he had administered. In the course of a day or two, Jenny made acquaintance with the rest of the passengers. There were not many. ‘Two French women, dark, thin, and cheerless looking, who never appeared without shawls, and the husband of one of them. A fat missionary clergyman named Blair; and a lady who called herself Madame Freep, but who was un- mistakably English ; and just as unmistakably wot a lady. A large, black eyed, loud woman, who had not been ill at all, and who aston- ished the company by her extravagant dress—frilled petticoats, flounced gowns, ribbons, laces, and gergeous jackets, all something wonderful to behold in the cabin of the Lightning. Jenny, she knew not why, instinctively shrunk from her—but Madame Freep was gracious in manner to everybody. Especially to the captain’s brother—one Mr. Perkins: a seedy, rakish looking man, whom she seemed to have known before. Captain Perkins, though sufficiently civil, was silent and unsociable. | The days went on. Jenny and Mr. Dacey very much improved their - acquaintance with one another. And by degrees Mrs. Webb and Mr. Bumble got over their mal de mer, and joined the circle ; the latter first, for Mr. Dacey’s mustard and water had really done him a world of good. But Mrs. Webb made much of her invalid state ; indeed she was weak. One morning when the sea was calm and blue, and the bright sun- light lay on it in patches, Mrs. Webb appeared on deck, shawls and cushions and all kinds of comfortable appliances borne before her by Mr. Dacey. For some little time she sat amid them like a piled-up caravan ; and then she began to talk. To Jenny’s astonishment and Mr. Dacey’s private amusement, she quite ignored her past indisposi- tion, and spoke rapturously of the “‘ beauties of the ocean.” ‘‘ For,” she said, ‘‘ although Jenny. Morris has suffered a great deal, and I somewhat, I confess, though chiefly through anxiety for her, yet we must acknowledge that a sea voyage is something to be enjoyed ; something to be positively revelled in.” “To be sure it is,” replied Madame Freep, with a gushing air. “ We do not give in to trifles. What is a day’s squeamishness, more or less? We can bear it, I hope, Mrs. Webb. To whatever extent others may . quail, you and I, my dear madam, can laugh at it.” | cComicbooks.com