"We shall be in to-morrow, so you'd better be digging up the treasures you have buried, you old magpie," said Mat, appearing to the pensive Livy on the eleventh day.
"The sun is out, come on deck, and help us get up the last edition of our paper. How will this do? Query—If steamers are named the 'Asia,' the 'Russia,' and the 'Scotia,' why not call one the 'Nausea?'" added Amanda, popping her head into the den. Lavinia threw a pillow at her, but the undaunted joker continued,—
"Also this: Financial—This being a feminine paper, gold is no longer at Pa, but at Ma."
"Good! Add this: Argument in favor of the Superiority of Women—The sluggard was not told to go to his uncle."
"Thank you," and Amanda departed to twine with her forty-third bosom friend, while Lavinia disinterred, from holes and corners of her berth, money, nuts, and raisins; books, biscuits, and literary efforts much the worse for deluges of soup and daubs of butter.
The cry of "Land!" on the morrow caused passengers unseen before to appear like worms after a