Page:Alice Lauder.pdf/21

IT happened about five o’clock of a hot Sunday afternoon that all the passengers were nearly dying out of pure boredom. They had eaten one hot dinner at the unnatural hour of three o’clock p.m., and it was morally and physically impossible to eat anything else for twenty-four hours at least. They could not go for a walk; they could not ask anyone in to tea; they had not even the prospect of a game of cards to cheer their spirits. In this vacuum it occurred to the good captain to try and secure “a little music,” in the last resort. The piano had been drawn out of the music-saloon on the outer deck, and fastened in a comfortable angle against the mast, for the convenience of the early service; and it was generally felt that at such a time as this even the Old Hundredth played by a child of five years old would have a cheering and ennobling effect. But there was no enterprise in the languid circle. In vain the captain went