“O, no! Molasses and rum you mean they were going to fetch back,” suggested Harry.
“Yes, that was it,” said Kate; “and we’ll play they were going out there with a shipload of dolls for the little West Indian girls for Christmas.”
“I’m afraid that won’t do,” said Harry, doubtfully.
“Why not, pray?” said Kate.
“Forty years ago I’m afraid there wasn’t a shipload of dolls in every one of our States put together.”
“O, never mind! we can play so, if there wasn’t.”
“Well, if it’s going to be all play we’ll go ahead,” said Harry. “The Snow was loaded with dead dolls and live monkeys, and every monkey had a doll, and when they got to the West Indies the monkeys all ran away with the dolls, and so the poor little West Indian girls got none.”
“How ridiculous!” cried Kate, laughing heartily. “Now let me see, the Snow was going and going, and sailing right on night and day, and day and night, when it struck a—a snag.”
“What’s that?” cried Harry, with a shout of laughter. “A snag in the ocean!”
“O, something that boats always hit that sinks them,” said Kate, a little red in the face. “I know; for my aunt was on a ship that went against one, and sunk too; ’cause she wrote all about it after she got home. I know it was a snag, too.”