"Does he know the channels?" I asked.
"No, I wouldn't say he knew the channels," he replied, "but he'll be handy."
"Have you any life-belts?" I asked.
"There were some," he said, "but they've gone."
"You're not very encouraging," I remarked. "Surely you don't want people drowned in your boats? It wouldn't do the village or the hotel any good."
"No, I suppose not," he assented thoughtfully; "but no one's going to be drowned. No one ever has been drowned in that boat since I've had her." He laughed a hearty laugh. "So that's all right," he added, and was gone.
I now know what an invalid feels like who, after a few weeks in (so to speak) cotton-wool, is deposited on the doorstep in the sleet.
Grandpapa (to small Teuton struggling with home lessons). "COME, FRITZ, IS YOUR TASK SO DIFFICULT?"