Story 2—Chapter 7.
I have often found, from experience, that the more one tries to collect one’s thoughts, the more one’s thoughts pertinaciously scatter themselves abroad, almost beyond the possibility of discovery. Such was the case with me, after escaping from the sea and the sharks, as related circumstantially in the last chapter. Perhaps the truth of this may best be illustrated by laying before my readers the dialogue that ensued between me and Jack on the momentous occasion referred to, as follows:—
Jack. “I say, Bob, where in all the world have we got to?”
Bob. “Upon my word, I don’t know.”
Jack. “It’s very mysterious.”
Bob. “What’s very mysterious?”
Jack. “Where we’ve got to. Can’t you guess?”
Bob. “Certainly. Suppose I say Lapland?”
Jack. (Shaking his head), “Won’t do.”