‘Well colonel,’ cried the captain. ‘You’re looking most uncommon bright, sir. I can hardly realise its being you, and that’s a fact.’
‘A good passage, cap’en?’ inquired the colonel, taking him aside,
‘Well now! It was a pretty spanking run, sir,’ said, or rather sung, the captain, who was a genuine New Englander; ‘considerin’ the weather.’
‘Yes?’ said the colonel.
‘Well! It was, sir,’ said the captain. ‘I’ve just now sent a boy up to your office with the passenger-list, colonel.’
‘You haven’t got another boy to spare, p’raps, cap’en?’ said the colonel, in a tone almost amounting to severity.
‘I guess there air a dozen if you want ‘em, colonel,’ said the captain.
‘One moderate big ‘un could convey a dozen champagne, perhaps,’ observed the colonel, musing, ‘to my office. You said a spanking run, I think?’
‘Well, so I did,’ was the reply.
‘It’s very nigh, you know,’ observed the colonel. ‘I’m glad it was a spanking run, cap’en. Don’t mind about quarts if you’re short of ‘em. The boy can as well bring four-and-twenty pints, and travel twice as once.—A first-rate spanker, cap’en, was it? Yes?’