"'They calls me a skipper,' said he, 'because I skips.'"
“How do you do?” said Dick, politely offering his hand.
“Stop a bit, my hearty,” said the sailor. “Salt!” and he began skipping rather quickly. “Pepper!!” and he quickened the pace considerably. “Mustard!!!” and the rope flew round so quickly that the children could hardly see it, while the jolly fat sailor skipped up and down furiously. Presently he stopped, and sank exhausted on a stone, puffing and blowing with all his might.
“I’m a Skipper,” he panted, in an explanatory tone.
“A Skipper!” exclaimed the children.
“Yes, they calls me a Skipper,” said he, “because I skips.”
“But I thought a Skipper was a kind of Captain or something,” said Marjorie.
“Quite right, my little dear; I’m Captain of the tidiest craft ye ever set eyes on. She’s lying out yonder. Will ye come and have a look at her?”
“Oh, yes, please,” said Dick, delightedly; “and perhaps you can tell us the way to get to England?”