The boy brought their food. Ugh! what a peculiar odor there was in the ship. I returned to my room and threw up, no breakfast if you please. At lunch time we repeated the performance, (in fact in was a steady thing three times per day for a long time) The steward sent me [beef] tea and smelling salts and the doctor made me a call of condolence and sympathy, quite unprofessional [and] but beneficial.
My room was opposite to that of the store-keeper, at the foot of the stairs and was without direct ventilation, being an inside room, a [suffocation]. I was obliged to leave my door open for air and a lamp
burning produced the light. I was not exactly to blame for being an object of pitty [pity] to the convalescent passersby. One of them sent the store keeper boy to his room for a bottle of medicine which had relieved him, saying it was too bad for the poor woman to lie there sick so long. The store-keeper and [the boy] his helper Joe come inside the door and administered the dose. [The boy] Joe tarried a moment and looked wishful at the bottle [I fancied, which had been placed on the shelf]. He was a red headed boy aparently [apparently] about fifteen years old; he said, “this is my first trip to sea” “Are you sick” “No but my head feels queer.” Would you like a dose of the medicine.” “It
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