Nux took a lump of bread from a provision sack and begun to munch it leisurely. Noticing the action, and remembering that I also was hungry, I proceeded to follow the black’s example.
While we ate, however, my Sulu was busily thinking, and so was I. As a result I presently gave my leg a delighted slap and began to laugh.
Nux looked at me with a grin of sympathy upon his black features.
“What’s matter, Mars Sam?”
“Nux,” said I, checking my amusement and trying to look grave and impressive, “there’s an old saying that ‘there’s never a lock so strong but there’s a key to fit it’. In other words, while there’s life there’s hope; never give up the ship; every sky has a silver lining!”
Nux looked puzzled.
“That’s a lovely pair of trousers you’re wearing, Nux,” I continued, in a jocular strain. “They’re made of the stoutest cloth Uncle Naboth could find in San Francisco, and I gave them to you out of the ship’s stores only three or four days ago, because your old ones were so ragged.”
Nux glanced at his wide-legged blue trousers and nodded.
“Now, old man,” said I, “you’ve often told me you used to go bare-legged and bare-backed in your own island, so I’m going to ask you to go bare-legged a little while now, and lend me those trousers.”
“Wha’ for, Mars Sam?”