Pleasure Bound: Afloat

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It was a rough spring, and after the Mesopotamia had passed the Statue of Liberty and cleared Sandy Hook, she stuck her nose into the Atlantic with a robust determination, which made the purser reflect genially that he was going to save money on the meals.

The company on the liner was varied. There was the usual complement of millionaires, some who worked and some who belonged to the 'Father-made-the-money' club; assorted Anglo-Saxon nobility, quite a number of widows, grass and otherwise; and not a few very dainty American flappers (why is it that Yankee flappers are nicer than English?).

Silas Ahasuerus P. Q. Silverwood stood near the stern and, as the night came down with a rush, gazed at the receding lights of New York, blinking in the gloom. It was his first visit to 'Yerrup', and he was a bit nervous. He had his money sewed into the arse of his pants, and when Miss Sylvania Jepps from Jeppville, Ohio, whom he had met casually at the Waldorf Astoria on the preceding evening and, incidentally, not shared sheets with, sidled up to him, he instinctively covered his bum pocket with a horny and capacious hand.

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