Lyngstrand.
Well, you see, when we were starting for home in the brig, from a town they call Halifax, we had to leave our boatswain behind us in the hospital; so we shipped an American in his place. This new boatswain——
Ellida.
The American?
Lyngstrand.
Yes;—one day he borrowed from the captain a bundle of old newspapers, and was perpetually poring over them, he wanted to learn Norwegian, he said.
Ellida.
Well; and then?
Lyngstrand.
Well, one evening it was blowing great guns. All hands were on deck—all except the boatswain and me. For he had sprained his ankle and couldn’t walk; and I wasn’t very well, and was lying in my bunk. Well, there he sat in the fo’c’sle, reading away as usual at one of the old papers——