"Ah! that's it, and where did the red paint come from?"
I was, of course, quite unable to suggest an explanation.
Presently, after Mr. Rea had waited—as if to draw from me the answer he expected—he said: "Well, no, I reckon you can't tell. It was thus. When mother died, I brought the Bold Venture here and set her where she is now, on the cupboard, and Jonas, he had set the new ship, all red and green, the Saucy Jane it was called, on the bureau. Will you believe me, next morning when I came downstairs the frigate was on the floor, and some of her spars broken and all the rigging in a muddle."
"There was no lead on the bottom. It fell down."
"It was not once that happened. It came to the same thing every night; and what is more, the Bold Venture began to show signs of having fouled her."
"How so?"
"Run against her. She had bruises, and had brought away some of the paint of the Saucy Jane. Every morning the frigate, if she were'nt on the floor, were rammed into a corner, and battered as if she'd been in a bad sea."
"But it is impossible."
"Of course, lots o' things is impossible, but they happen all the same."
"Well, what next?"