I sadly looked at that dress shirt, shook my head, and took a turn up and down the deck.
No use, there wasn't a speck on the horizon; no hope of being sunk before dinner.
I went back to my cabin and turned that shirt around, and blossomed out with it hind side fore.
I was a little nervous at first, until after soup, but it went. Didn't occasion any remark or flutter, and I felt that I was good for four days more.
At the end of the second four days, eight days out from Bombay, we had passed Aden.
No hope of being sunk before dinner
I turned that shirt around