“Spain and Portugal are the last countries in Europe we are to visit; and we shall finish them up in three or four weeks more.”
“And what then? we are not to go home and be discharged, as you seem to think,” continued Bill Stout. “We are to go to the West Indies, taking in a lot of islands on the way—I forget what they are.”
“I can stand it better when we are at sea,” said Ben Pardee. “There is more life in it as we are tumbling along in a big sea. Besides, there will be something to see in those islands. These cities of Europe are about the same thing; and, when you have seen one, you have seen the whole of them.”
“I don’t know about that,” suggested Lon Gibbs, who, from the chaplain’s point of view, was the most hopeful of the four; for his education was better than the others, and he had some taste for the wonders of nature and art. “Spain ought to be worth seeing to fellows from the United States of America. I suppose you know that Columbus sailed from this country.”
“Is that so?” laughed Bark Lingall. “I thought he was an Italian; at any rate, we saw the place where he was born, or else it was a fraud.”
“I think you had better read up your history again, and you will find that Columbus was born in Italy, but sailed in the service of Spain,” replied Lon Gibbs.
“That will do!” interposed Bill Stout, turning up his nose. “We don’t want any of that sort of thing in our crowd. If you wish to show off your learning, Lon, you had better go and join the lambs.”
“That’s so. It’s treason to talk that kind of bosh in our company. We have too much of it in the steerage to tolerate any of it when we are by ourselves,” said Ben Pardee.
“I thought you were going to do something about it,” added Bill Stout. “We are utterly disgusted, and we agreed that we could not stand it any longer. We shall go into the next place—I forget the name of it”—
“Barcelona,” added Lon Gibbs, who was rather annoyed at the dense ignorance of his friend.