"How many were drowned?"
"No one was drowned. That was the trouble."
"Trouble?"
"Yes. They all got to hating each other so, and the food worried 'em so much, that they used to wade out in batches every morning and TRY to drown themselves. It was the food mostly. You see the 'Hot Cross Bun' was an excursion steamer,—like that one we just saw at the wharf. She wasn't on an excursion this time, however,— she was making a regular trip between one of the islands in this Bay and the mainland. That's the charm of Broad Bay,—there are so many islands and towns that almost anything can happen.
"Well, this steamboat had on board a miscellaneous lot of passengers, including a bird-study club, a fife and drum corps, and two scissors-grinders. It wasn't until the boat was wrecked in a thick fog, and they tried to exist on Pelican Point for four days,—foggy all the time—that they found out what it was going to be like. The Point is cut off from the mainland in bad weather, you know. Well, they examined the food supply of the 'Hot Cross Bun' and they found that it consisted of thirty-seven dozen sticks of pineapple chewing gum, four quarts of peanuts, (these went the very first day), eight pounds of half-petrified Turkish Delight, six boxes of all-day-suckers, and about thirty thousand chocolate mice.
"Now, all these things are very delightful when you're on dry land, and can have them now and then, so to speak. But Pelican Point wasn't dry, and the food got awfully tiresome! Why, my uncle,—he's a bishop, and very regular in his habits—told me he got so that he almost thought he wouldn't mind if he never saw a chocolate mouse again as long as he lived!
"On the third day came the mutiny. The bird-study club had been complaining—"
Mr. Daddles paused.
"Are you waiting for us, Captain?"
"The flap-jacks are ready," said Captain Bannister, from below.