I had, however, but one choice, either to conquer my repugnance or give myself up a victim to sea-sickness; so with all patience and resignation I received the proffered gifts, and found, after a trial of many hours, that I could manage to retain a small dose.

This physicking was continued for two long, long days, and then I began slowly to recover.
I have here circumstantially described both my illness and its cure, because so many people are unfortunately victims to the complaint, and when under its influence cannot summon resolution to take sustenance.

I should advise all my friends not to hold out so long as I did, but to take food at once, and continue to do so until the system will receive it.
As I was now convalescent, I tried to recruit my wearied mind by a diligent study of the mode of life and customs of the mariners of the northern seas.
Our ship's company consisted of Herr Knudson, Herr Bruge (a merchant whom we were to land at the Westmann Islands), the captain, the mate, and six or seven sailors.

Our mode of life in the cabin was as follows: in the morning, at seven o'clock, we took coffee, but whence this coffee came, heaven knows! I drank it for eleven days, and could never discover any thing which might serve as a clue in my attempt to discover the country of its growth.

At ten o'clock we had a meal consisting of bread and butter and cheese, with cold beef or pork, all excellent dishes for those in health; the second course of this morning meal was "tea-water." In Scandinavia, by the way, they never say, "I drink _tea_," the word "water" is always added: "I drink _tea-water_." Our "tea-water" was, if possible, worse than its predecessor, the incomparable coffee.