Young People's Pride by Stephen Vincent Benet

Whatever the number was of the second-class stateroom on the _Citric_, it was rather too far down in the belly of that leviathan to have suited fashionable people. But Oliver and Nancy had stopped being fashionable some time before and they told each other that it was _much_ nicer than first-class on one of the small liners with apparent conviction and never got tired of rejoicing at their luck in its being an outside. It was true that the port-hole might most of the time have been wholly ornamental for all the good it did them, for it was generally splashed with grey October sea, but, at least, as Nancy lucently explained, you could see things -- once there had actually been a porpoise -- and that neither of them, in their present condition, would have worried very much about it if their cabin had been an aquarium was a fact beyond dispute.

"Time to get up, dear! " This is Oliver a little sternly from the upper berth. "That was your bath that came in a minute ago and said something in Cockney. At least I _think_ it was -- mine's voice is a good deal more like one of Peter's butlers -- " "But, Ollie, I'm so _comfortable_!"