We sat there for half-an-hour, describing to each other our diseases. I explained to George and William Harris how I felt when I got up in the morning, and William Harris told us how he felt when he went to bed; and George illustrated us by acting how he felt at night.
At this point, Mrs. Poppets knocked at the door and brought in the tray with supper. I must have been very weak at the time; because after the first half-hour or so, I seemed to take no interest in my food an unusual thing for me and I didnt want any cheese.
After the supper, we refilled our glasses, lit our pipes, and continued to discuss our state of health. What was the matter with us we couldnt be sure of;
but all of us believed that it whatever it was was a result of overwork.
What we want is rest, said Harris.
Rest and a complete change, said George. Change of scene and no necessity for thought.
I agreed with George, and suggested that we should look for some quiet place, far from the noisy world, and spend there a sunny week.
If you want rest and change, you cant beat a sea trip, said Harris.
I objected to the sea trip strongly. A sea trip does you good when you are going to have a couple of months of it, but, for a week, it is wicked. You start on Monday thinking that you are going to enjoy yourself. You wave to the boys on shore, light your biggest pipe, and swagger about the deck as if you were Captain Cook, Sir Francis Drake, and Christopher Columbus all rolled into one. On Tuesday, you wish you hadnt come. On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, you wish you were dead. On Saturday, you are able to swallow a little beef tea, and to sit up on deck, and answer with a faint, sweet smile when kind-hearted people ask you how you feel now. On Sunday, you begin to walk about again, and take solid food. And on Monday morning, as, with your bag and umbrella in your hand, you are getting ready to step on the shore, you begin to really like it.
I remember my brother-in-law going for a short sea trip once, for the benefit of his health. He took a return ticket from London to Liverpool; and when he got to Liverpool, the only thing he was anxious about was to sell that return ticket. It was offered round the town at a tremendous reduction, so I am told; and was eventually sold for eighteen-pence to a bilious-looking youth who had just been advised by his medical men to go to the sea-side, and take exercise.
Sea-side! said my brother-in-law, pressing the ticket affectionately into his hand; why, youll have enough to last you a lifetime; and as for exercise! why, youll get more exercise, sitting down on that ship, than you would on dry land. He himself my brother-in-law came back by train. He said the North-Western Railway was healthy enough for him.
Another fellow I knew went for a weeks voyage round the coast, and, before they started, the steward came to him to ask whether he would pay for each meal as he had it, or arrange beforehand for the whole series. The steward recommended the latter course, as it would come so much cheaper. He said they would do him for the whole week at two pounds five. He said for breakfast there would be fish, followed by a grill. Lunch was at one, and consisted of four courses. Dinner at six soup, fish, entree, joint, poultry, salad, sweets, cheese, and dessert. And a light meat supper at ten.
Lunch came just as they were off Sheerness. He didnt feel so hungry as he thought he should, and so contented himself with a bit of boiled beef, and some strawberries and cream. He thought a good deal during the afternoon, and at one time it seemed to him that he had been eating nothing but boiled beef for weeks, and at other times it seemed that he must have been living on strawberries and cream for years. Neither the beef nor the strawberries and cream seemed happy, either seemed discontented like.
At six, they came and told him dinner was ready. The announcement aroused no enthusiasm within him, but he felt that there was some of that two-pound-five to be worked off, and he held on to ropes and things and went down. A pleasant odour of onions and hot ham, mixed with fried fish
and greens, greeted him at the bottom of the ladder; and then the steward came up with an oily smile, and said:
What can I get you, sir?
Get me out of this, was the faint reply.
And they helped him to get upstairs, and left him. For the next four days he lived a simple life on thin captains biscuits (I mean that the biscuits were thin, not the captain) and soda-water; but, towards Saturday, he felt better, and went in for weak tea and dry toast, and on Monday he was gorging himself on chicken broth. He left the ship on Tuesday, and as it steamed away he gazed after it regretfully.