"Please, sir, I want to come into the Ark," replied the Lizard, meekly.
"Well, you can't get in on this ticket—see?"
"Please, sir, it's the only one I have," continued the Lizard, trembling.
"Well, look here, young fellow," snorted the Bull, getting angrier as he spoke; "this ticket is your shape, but it is not your size. You bought it from a speculator outside!"
"Oh no, sir!" exclaimed the Lizard.
"I don't care what you say. This is the Crocodile's ticket, and it ain't your size, and you can't get in on it!"
"Please, sir. I did not know," mildly protested the Lizard. "I can't read, sir."
"Well, don't you know that the pauper, the insane, and the illiterate are not allowed on this Ark?" roared the Bull, apparently deriving much pleasure out of the fact that he was scaring the Lizard half to death. The little fellow did not in the least understand the meaning of these big words, but he was so frightened by the Bull's ferocious manner that he turned away and scurried frantically down the gang-plank, and hid under a big stone in the sand.
"How awfully mean for the Bull to talk like that to such a little animal!" whispered Tommy to the ex-Pirate.
"That's what he always does. Never takes a fellow his size," answered the ex-Pirate. "He bullies the little ones: that's why he's called a Bull."