"Fishing boats," Fred said. "Look—from here we can see eleven boats, counting the sails and hulls."
Polly found another ship, barely visible, and Artie picked up another and that gave them thirteen before they turned away to follow the road that would take them back into the country.
"Say, I know a riddle!" exclaimed Artie. "Fred, why is the ocean never a lonely place?"
"Why is the ocean never a lonely place?" repeated Fred slowly. "Because it's full of fish, I guess."
"No," drawled Artie.
"I don't think that was a good answer," observed Margy. "Fish—horrid old things—wouldn't keep any one, not even another fish, from being lonely."
"What is the answer, Artie?" said Polly, after a little more thought on the part of all. "We all give up."
"The ocean is never lonely because it is always filled with old Salts."
"Old salts?" queried Margy. "What does that mean?"