"I s'pose you does your manœuvrin' on a geegee most times?"
"On'y sech low and 'ornery mavericks as sheepmen foots it in the cow-country."
"Well, I never did take a cruise on er 'orse, but I takes my gal out one day in a shay. Lord! It were a go an' no mistake! I was got up to kill, and she—well, she was good gear an' you may lay to that. So we ups anchor and off we goes, makin' a fair wind of it, me a-cockin' a chest an' swayin' the main good-oh. It's then that bloomin' sarpint, Old Nick, starts in his little game, an' like another Eve, my Dinah gets her sailin' orders an' whispers kinder soft-like:
"'Make 'im go, Bill darlin', lick 'im an' make 'im go! 'An' me like a innocent babe, not twiggin' Old Nick's tactics, begins chucklin' like a hen, an' gives a pull on the yoke-lines.
"Well, what does this blighted 'orse do but give a flip out aft, an' go weavin' off like a crazy lunatic, an' we're soon navigatin' under forced draught. My Dinah gives a toot on her siren, an' I lays back on the yoke-lines; but that flat-footed, mud-scatterin' moke ain't takin' no notice, an' just claps on every pound o' steam.
"We goes by old Bluelights of the Hannibal, and a tiffy, like a torpedo-catcher on 'er steam trials. Bluelights 'e sings out,
"'Makin' 'eavy weather of it, Bill?' an' he hits the target that time if he never does afore.
"Right ahead there's a tramp loaded down to her Plimsoll mark with coals, an' goin' dead slow.
"I rings up the engines for 'ard astern with both screws, but it ain't no use; the next minit we rams him. Lord! It were a giddy-go-round!
"My Dinah an' me goes over the bows like bein' shot out of a 5-inch. She lands on the coals, which you can bet has a bad effec' on her flash rig-out; but I up-ends the sleepy skipper o' the coal tramp, an' the pair of us goes overboard, me a-claspin' 'im in my volupshus arms.