“I think I will go on deck,” said the professor; “the balmy breeze of ocean will revive me.”
“You won’t find any wind, sir,” replied Harry; “all is fog and calm.”
“I am under the weather.”
He rose and stumbled, his wooden leg gave way, and he measured his length on the floor.
“Confound it,” he exclaimed. “It is a funny thing you should tell me there is no wind.”
“Indeed there is not a capful.”
“The ship is rolling; if not, why did I fall down?”
“That is best known to yourself. The sea is like a mill pond.”
“Don’t tell me. I know better. Monday!”
“Yes, sah.”