Page:In a Steamer Chair and Other Stories.djvu/40

28 slipped back the curtain on its brass rod and looked out into his stateroom. The valise which he had left carelessly on the floor the night before was now making an excursion backward and forward from the bunk to the sofa, and the books that had been piled up on the sofa were scattered all over the room. It was evident that dressing was going to be an acrobatic performance.

The deck, when he reached it, was wet, but not with the moisture of the scrubbing. The outlook was clear enough, but a strong head wind was blowing that whistled through the cordage of the vessel, and caused the black smoke of the funnels to float back like huge somber streamers. The prow of the big ship rose now into the sky and then sank down into the bosom of the sea, and every time it descended a white cloud of spray drenched every thing forward, and sent a drizzly salt rain along the whole length of the steamer.

"There will be no ladies on deck this morning," said Morris to himself, as he held his cap on with both hands and looked around at the threatening sky. At this moment one wave struck the steamer with more than usual force and raised its crest amidships over the decks. Morris had just time to escape into the companion way when it fell with a crash on the deck, flooding the promenade, and