“Yes, of course I do; like fish,” said Carey, angrily.
“Fish they is; but do you know how big some of ’em are?”
“No.”
“Well, I do. There’s some of ’em big enough to pull like donkeys. Now, jest s’pose as you hooks one.”
“Well, suppose I do? We’ll have it out, and you shall cook it. Doctor Kingsmead said it would be nice to have a bit of fresh fish.”
“That’s right enough, my lad; but let’s go back to what I said. Suppose you hook one, what then?”
“Why, I should catch it.”
“Not you, sir. You’d be a bit excited, and you’d pull, and the fish’d pull, and in about a brace o’ shakes we should have your upper timbers, as the doctor’s been taking so much trouble to mend, all knocked to pieces again. Now then, my lad, what have you got to say to that?”
Carey had nothing to say to it, so he lay back with his face puckered up, staring straight before him.
The old sailor used the auger as a hammer and tapped the end of one of the casks so that it sounded loudly.