“Of course not,” said Brace. “We did not try to find a fancy yacht.”
“That’s right,” said the captain; “but anyhow, when a man’s tired, a wooden seat is a bit hard, so I’ve got some horsehair cushions to go on the lids of the lockers. I like ’em myself. Now then, gentlemen, can you make shift here?”
“Yes, and a very good shift too,” said Sir Humphrey as he and his brother stood looking round the fairly roomy cabin, whose fittings were of Quakerish simplicity, but scrupulously clean.
“As clean as on board a man-o’-war,” said Brace.
“To be sure,” said the skipper drily. “Why not?—Then you think it will do, gentlemen?”
“Excellently,” said Sir Humphrey.
“That’s right, gentlemen. There are your berths in there. That’s mine, and those two belong to my mates,” he continued, pointing out the different divisions in the stern of the brig. “I’ve got a good cook too, for I like decent eating and drinking. He can’t make what you call side dishes and French kickshaws. But he can make turtle-soup when we catch a turtle, and I’ll back him against any cook in the British Navy to make a good cup of coffee.”
“That will do,” said Brace.
“Frizzle a rasher o’ bacon.”
“So will that.”