"How old are you?" asked the mate.
Now I have always heard that it is impolite to question a lady about her age; I must say I hadn't a speck of a notion of telling that sharp-nosed mate that I lacked seven months of being twelve years old.
"How old are you?" he asked again.
"Twelve years," said I hastily.
"Well, then you must pay full fare."
I don't know how I looked outside at that minute. I know that inside of me I was utterly aghast. Suppose I didn't have money enough! And I had told a lie!
Now my purse is a little bit of a thing, hardly big enough for you to get three fingers in. I took it out rather hurriedly—everything that I undertake always goes with a rush, Mother says. How it happened I don't know, but my five-crown note whisked out of my hand, over the railing and out to sea.
"Catch it! Catch it!" I shouted.
"That is impossible," said the mate.
"Yes, yes! Put out a boat!" I cried. All the passengers crowded together around us.