"Damn those Britishers!" said the parrot.
"They didn't do much that time—only cut off those Irish pennants. That's a very sensible bird of yours, Cynthy," said the Skipper, who remembered the late war only too well.
"I'm glad there are some brains on board," answered Cynthia, "if only a bird's."
"Get in the boat and stop sassin' me!" ordered the Skipper.
I handed the blanket and pillow to the Bo's'n, who placed them in the bow, thus making a comfortable seat.
"You'd better go up in the bows," I said to Cynthia, as I helped her down from the wobbling Jacob's ladder. She stepped exactly on the middle of the seat. I never saw another girl step anywhere but on the gun'l.
The Skipper took the steering oar.
"I'll keep the Yankee Blade between us and them," said he.
"I haven't the slightest doubt of it," remarked Cynthia gratuitously.
I sat forward of the men, next to Cynthia.