Doyle, Arthur Conan, 1859-1930 -- Parodies, imitations, etc.; Fantasy fiction; Holmes, Sherlock (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
“The point is properly taken,” said Elizabeth, “and I wish to say here
that I am easier in my mind when I realize that we have with us so
level-headed a person as the lady who has just spoken. She has spoken
truly and to the point. If I were to become queen again, I should make
her my attorney-general. We must not go ahead impulsively, but look at
all things in a calm, judicial manner.”
“Which is pretty hard work with a sea like this on,” remarked Ophelia,
faintly, for she was getting a trifle sallow, as indeed she might, for
the House-boat was beginning to roll tremendously with no alleviation
save an occasional pitch, which was an alleviation only in the sense that
it gave variety to their discomfort. “I don’t believe a chief-justice
could look at things calmly and in a judicial manner if he felt as I do.”
“Poor dear!” said the matronly Mrs. Noah, sympathetically. “I know
exactly how you feel. I have been there myself. The fourth day out I
and my whole family were in the same condition, except that Noah, my
husband, was so very far gone that I could not afford to yield. I nursed
him for six days before he got his sea-legs on, and then succumbed
myself.”
“But,” gasped Ophelia, “that doesn’t help me—
“It did my husband,” said Mrs. Noah.
“When he heard that the boys were seasick too, he actually laughed and
began to get better right away. There is really only one cure for the
_mal de mer_, and that is the fun of knowing that somebody else is
suffering too. If some of you ladies would kindly yield to the
seductions of the sea, I think we could get this poor girl on her feet in
an instant.”
Unfortunately for poor Ophelia, there was no immediate response to this
appeal, and the unhappy young woman was forced to suffer in solitude.
“We have no time for untimely diversions of this sort,” snapped
Xanthippe, with a scornful glance at the suffering Ophelia, who, having
retired to a comfortable lounge at an end of the room, was evidently
improving. “I have no sympathy with this habit some of my sex seem to
have acquired of succumbing to an immediate sensation of this nature.”
“I hope to be pardoned for interrupting,” said Mrs. Noah, with a great
deal of firmness, “but I wish Mrs. Socrates to understand that it is
rather early in the voyage for her to lay down any such broad principle
as that, and for her own sake to-morrow, I think it would be well if she
withdrew the sentiment. There are certain things about a sea-voyage that
are more or less beyond the control of man or woman, and any one who
chides that poor suffering child on yonder sofa ought to be more
confident than Mrs. Socrates can possibly be that within an hour she will
not be as badly off. People who live in glass houses should not throw
dice.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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