“It’s a cow, Dick; and it has tumbled off the cliff, and is swimming for its life,” said the lad, closing the glass.
The sailor chuckled.
“What are you laughing at?”
“At you, sir, beggin’ your pardon. But you don’t think as how a cow would be such a fool as to tumble off a cliff. Humans might, but cows is too cunning.”
“I don’t believe you would be,” cried the lad smartly. “Put you up there in such a fog as we’ve had, and where would you be?”
“Fast asleep in the first snug corner I could find,” said the sailor, as the midshipman ran aft, and descended into the cabin, to go to the end and tap on a door.
There was no answer, and he tapped again.
“Hullo!”
“Beg pardon, sir,” began the midshipman.
“Granted! Be off, and don’t bother me again.”