“Well, if it had been you, I’d have hurled you into the sea, both of you.”
Singdahlsen had once been to America and ever since then the worst thing any one could do was to sing an American song to him. He took it as a personal insult, though nobody knew why.
Pooh! We could get along with him perfectly well.
“How did you come here, Singdahlsen?” asked Louisa. Evidently she should not have asked that, for he looked angry at once.
“How did you come here on my boat?” he retorted quickly.
“It is an awfully pretty yacht, this Seven Stars,” I said.
“Yes, when I once get it gilded over, and set a diamond as big as that (measuring with his hands) upon the mast, then it will be as it should be.”
“Oh, yes! Then it will be charming,” we both said.
“Really, I ought to be king of the seas,” said Singdahlsen.
“Yes, you ought; and have a crown upon your head.”