The Captain shouted down-wind, “Cut away the trailer!” The ship’s Carpenter, with hammer and cold-chisel, severed the tow-line, and the menagerie vanished in the dust.
At 1.35 the Lithia sprung a bunch of leaks, and every drop of water [123] ]ran out of her. We are now high and horribly dry. Hennessy Martel has tied still another string around his thumb, to remind himself to make it three drinks when he gets off. His hand is beginning to look like a hammock.
At 1.50 P. M. orders were given to lighten ship. We threw over ten bales of temperance pledges, fifty cases malted milk, thirty-two cases sarsaparilla, eighteen carboys root beer, twenty-seven vats lemon soda, two hundred and thirty-five gallons mineral water, the library, the band, the cash register, seventy-five [124] ]bundles of blue ribbons, the water-cooler and three tons of cracked ice, the pianola, Gottlieb Kirschwasser, and Doctor Zoolak. The Lithia righted, and it looks as if the gallant craft will ride it out. Cheers are rattling from the warped throats of passengers and crew.
2 P. M.—We are lost! A fresh consignment of boarding-house carpets has just been thrown under the slapsticks at the Cleaning Works. This is the limit of dirty weather.
Hurrah! A St. Bernard dog with [125] ]a little brown jug tied to his neck is battling his way toward the doomed Water Wagon. Good old Nero!