"Well, it's hot there anyway, and the smell of oil comes up from the engines.... Whence have you come?"
"From Kashira."
"Long from home?"
"Three weeks, about."
"Any rain at your place?"
"No. But why?"
"How come your boots are so muddy?"
The passenger lowered his head, extended cautiously first one foot, and then the other, scrutinised them both, and replied:
"You see, they are not my boots."
With a roar of laughter that caused his brilliant beard to project from his chin, the boatswain retorted: