“Which plucks the feathers from its own breast and makes them into eiderdown quilts,” added Chub. “We will call the boat the Eiderdown Quilt.”
“Oh, cut it out, Chub,” said Roy. “Talk sense, can’t you?”
“You ask the impossible,” murmured Chub.
“Well, so far we’ve got only one worth considering,” said Dick. “That’s North Wind. What do you think of it?”
“Sounds good to me,” said Chub.
“All right, I think,” Roy replied.
“Can’t think of anything better, any of you?”
Roy and Chub shook their heads.
“Well, we don’t have to decide on it yet,” said Dick. “And maybe we’ll think of something else before Saturday. I’m going up-stairs; any one coming?”