“Yes, sir, and it bothers the man; but there it is, all the same. You ask any sailor chap, and—”
“Yes, I know, Tom; and he’ll talk just as much nonsense as you.”
“P’raps so, sir, but something bad allus happens to a ship as has a black cat aboard.”
“And something always happens to a ship that has any cat on board. And what is more, something always happens to a ship that has no cat at all on board. Look at our Seafowl, for instance.”
“Yes, sir, you may well say that,” said the man sadly. “The chaps have talked about it a deal, and we all says as she’s an unfortnit ship.”
“Oh, you all think so, do you, Tom?”
“Yes, sir, we do,” said the man solemnly.
“Then you may depend upon it, Tom, that there’s a black cat hidden away somewhere in the hold.”
“Ah! Come aboard, sir, in port, after the rats? That would account for it, sir, and ’splain it all,” cried the man eagerly. “You think that’s it, do you, sir?”
“No, I don’t, Tom; I’m laughing at you for being such an old woman. I did give you the credit of having more sense. I’m ashamed of you.”