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Flora Lyndsay; or, Passages in an Eventful Life volume ii chapter i. the state cabin. W hy the apartment into which Flora retreated on going on board was called a State-cabin, Flora could not imagine. It was really a very small closet, about seven feet in length, and a very little broader than it was long. It contained neither stool, bench, nor chair, and there was just room enough after closing the door to turn round. The top of a large chest of painted deal drawers, with a raised board in front, and screened by faded red stuff curtains, formed the bed; for which Lyndsay had purchased a hair-mattress and feather pillows, to render it more comfortable during the voyage for his wife and child. This was perched up, however, at such an unreachable height from the ground that the bed was on a level with Mrs. Lyndsay’s chin. “How in the world shall I ever get into it?” said Flora, appealing to her attendant in a tone half laughing, half crying. “If it is such a difficult thing now when the ship is at anchor, what will it be when she is plunging about in a storm?” “You had better hax the capting, Marm. He must know the proper way of climbing up, for it was his own berth.” “That will seem so absurd. He may, however, have a step-ladder to reach it. Go to him, and ask him, with my compliments, how he gets into bed.” Hannah, returned laughing, and with flushed cheeks. “La, Marm, he says ‘that he gets in like other folks; that where there’s a will there’s allers a way.’ An’ he burst out into such a loud roaring laugh that it made me feel quite ashamed. Arter he had had his fun and wiped his eye—he has but one, you knows, Marm—he cries out, ‘Hout! lass, let her jest make a flight of steps, by pulling out the drawers one above another for a little way. They answer the purpose of stairs, and if she’s in downright earnest, she’ll soon learn how to get in.” Flora was highly delighted with the result of Hannah’s message. She immediately attempted the method proposed by the rough sailor, and after a trial or two, became quite expert in rolling in and out of the berth. 146 Flora Lyndsay; or, Passages in an Eventful Life She now received a summons from the steward that “tea was ready.” “That’s good news,” said Hannah; “I feel quite raversome with hunger, and if I don’t lay in a good stock to-night I shall feel bad enough to-morrow with the orrid sickness. The moment the ship begins to heave, I shall be heaving too,” “Say nothing about it, Hannah—enjoy yourself while you can.” “There’s company in the cabin, Marm—not ’zactly ladies, but kind of ladies, such as Misses Waddel would call decent folk. One of them was sitting upon the Capting’s knee when I went in, and drinking punch with him out of the same glass.” “Very decent ladies, truly,” said Flora, doubtful whether to make one of such a refined party. Just as she had determined to remain where she was for the night, Lyndsay tapped at the door, and she called him in to hold a consultation. “Come away,” said he, laughing, “it is only the Captain’s wife, and the mate’s, with two of their sisters. Nice good-tempered women who will behave themselves with due decorum. Old Boreas will be quite hurt if you refuse to come out of your den, and play the amiable to his woman folk.” Flora no longer hesitated. She emerged from her hiding-place into the cabin, which now presented a very different appearance to what it had done some hours before. All the confusion of trunks and packages that had filled up the small available space had been removed, and it looked as neat and comfortable as such a confined crib could possibly look under the most favourable circumstances. The company, consisting of four smartly-dressed young women, were ranged along the bench opposite the door from which Flora made her debût. They regarded her with a nervous, awkward agitation, as they rose simultaneously and dropped as low a curtsy as the narrow space between the bench and the table would allow. The ceremony of introduction then commenced, by the Captain...

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