“Oh, yes, I am, Miss,” he admitted, “but I sha’n’t ask any of you for sixpence more, d’ye see, for I know that you haven’t got it;” which was perfectly true, for Girlie had none and the Wallypug had given the last of his little store of coppers to make up the Bathing-machine Woman’s sixpence.
“Oh dear! I’m afraid there’s going to be a squall, your Majesties,” said the Wallypug suddenly, looking with alarm at the Bathing-machine Woman’s baby, which was screwing up its face in a very ominous manner.
“BROKE LOOSE AND SWAM AWAY.”
“Bless me, yes, so there is!” said the Ancient Mariner, becoming greatly excited, jumping up on the seat and shouting out a lot of orders in a loud voice. “Now then, belay there, hoist the main jib, hard-a-port, three sheets in the wind, shiver my timbers and blow me tight!” (I am grieved at having to record these terrible expressions, but I am sorry to say that sailors are not at all particular in their language when they get excited.)
The baby began to cry, the sea grew rougher and rougher every minute, and the cart tossed about in a most alarming manner.
Girlie was rather frightened. “Do you think there is any danger?” she asked of the Wallypug, who was nervously clinging to the side of the cart.
“You are requested not to speak to the man at the wheel,” roared the Ancient Mariner, and, just then, the horse, which had been plunging about violently, broke loose and swam away, leaving the cart to float by itself.
The Bathing-machine Woman screamed and the baby squalled louder than ever.
“Oh dear! oh dear! whatever shall we do now?” cried poor Girlie, while the Wallypug still clung to the side of the cart, looking very pale indeed.