“I have heard they sometimes have terrible hurricanes,” came from Grace.  “I read of one hurricane which flooded some small islands completely.”

“Grace is trying to scare us!” cried Nellie.

“Well, islands have been swept by hurricanes,” said Sam, coming to the rescue of his dearest girl friend.  “But let us hope we escape all heavy storms.”

“A steam yacht is not as bad off as a sailing vessel,” said Dick.  “If necessary, we can run away from a heavy storm.  In a high wind it’s a sailing ship that catches it.”

By nightfall they had passed out of Delaware Bay into the Atlantic Ocean, and then the course was changed to almost due south.  As soon as they got out on the long swells the Rainbow commenced to toss and pitch considerably.

“Now you can sing a life on the ocean wave!” cried Dick to Songbird.  “How does this suit you?”

“Elegant!” was the reply, and then the would-be poet began to warble: 

“I love the rolling ocean
With all its strange commotion
And all the washing wavelets that hit us on the side;
I love to hear the dashing
Of the waves and see the splashing
Of the foam that chums around us as on we glide!”

“Gee Christopher!” cried Sam.  “Say, Songbird, that rhyme is enough to make one dizzy!”

“I dink dot boetry vos make me tizzy already,” came from Hans, as he sat down on a nearby chair, his face growing suddenly pale.

“Hullo, Hans is sick!” cried Tom.  “Hans, I thought you had better sea legs than that.”

“I vosn’t sick at all, Dom, only vell, der ship looks like be vos going to dake a summersaults already kvick!”

“You’re seasick,” said Sam.  “Better go to your stateroom and lie down.”

“I ton’t vos going to get seasick,” protested the German youth.

“Think of Hansy getting seasick!” cried Fred.  “That’s the best yet!” And he laughed heartily.  “Shall I hold your head for you?” he asked, with a grin.

“I guess it vos der fireworks yesterday done him,” said Hans weakly, and staggered off to the cabin.

“That’s kind of rough to twit him, Fred,” remarked Dick.

“Oh, I only meant it in fun.”

“Maybe you’ll get seasick yourself.”

“Not much!  If I do, I have a remedy in my trunk, that I brought from home.”

“You’d better give the remedy to Hans.”

“I will.”

Fred went below and got the bottle of medicine from his dress suit case.  As he did this his own head began to swim around, much to his alarm.

“Here, Hans, is a dose for you,” he said, entering the stateroom, where the German youth was rolling around on the berth.

“Vot ist it for?” groaned the sufferer.

“Seasickness.”

“Den gif it to me kvick!  Gif me apout two quarts!”

“It says take a tablespoonful,” said Fred, reading the label with difficulty.  “Here you are.”