"
"Will any of them cure seasickness?" asked the dude, eagerly.
"I can give you a remedy for seasickness, Mr. Clinton," said
Mr. Holdfast, the mate, who chanced to overhear the inquiry.
"What is it, Mr. Holdfast? I shall be really grateful, I assure you,
if you can cure that beastly malady."
"Swallow a piece of raw salt pork about an inch square," said the mate
gravely, "and follow it up by a glass of sea water, taken at a gulp."
"That's horrid, awfully horrid!" gasped Clinton, shuddering, and
looking very pale. "It actually makes me sick to think of it, don't
you know," and he retreated to the cabin, with one hand pressed on his
stomach.
"That young man's a fool!" said Mr. Timmins. "He knows no more about
pills than a baby."
"Nor do I, Mr. Timmins," said Harry, smiling.
"I pity you then. My life has been saved several times by pills."
"I'd rather live without them."
Marmaduke sadly shook his head as he walked away.
"That man's a walking drug store," said the mate, looking after him.
"I'd rather go to Davy's locker, and be done with it, than to fill
myself up with pills and potions."
"You're looking chipper, my boy," said a newcomer, in a nasal
voice. "Haven't been seasick, I guess."
Harry recognized the voice of the Yankee inventor, Jonathan Stubbs.
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