"There's no use reading that stuff to us. We can't take it in," said Niven.
Lawson grinned at Appleby. "A little thick in the head?" he said.
"No," said Niven. "My head's as good as those most people have, anyway. I was top of the list almost every term when I was at school."
Lawson's smile grew broader. "That's a bad sign," he said. "Now I never knew how much I didn't know until I came to sea, and you don't seem to have got that far yet. You see, there's a good deal you want to forget."
"Well," said Niven, "forgetting's generally easy. What would you teach a fellow who wanted to go to sea?"
Lawson rubbed his head. "How to get fat on bread and water would come in useful for one thing," he said. "Then it would be handy to know just when to say nothing when you're kicked, and when it would be better to put your foot down and answer with your fist. You see, if you do either of them at the wrong time you're apt to be sorry."
"Appleby knows that already," said Niven, whose eyes twinkled as he glanced at his friend.
Appleby made a grimace, and Lawson laughed.
"Then it's a good deal more than you do, though I expect the mate will teach you the first of it," he said.
"Now, when Cally put soft-soap in your singlet and sewed your trousers up you should have laughed fit to split yourself, as Appleby did. Cally tarred his hair for him, and there's some in yet, but any one would have fancied that he liked it."