“What age?” asked the captain.
“Nineteen last June,” replied the girl with eager promptness, that must have come from shame from the blunder she had made. Lemuel was twenty, the 4th of July.
“Weight?” pursued the captain.
“Well, I hain't been weighed very lately,” answered the girl, with increasing interest. “I don't know as I been weighed since I left home.”
The captain looked at her judicially.
“That so? Well, you look pretty solid. Guess I'll put you down at a hundred and twenty.”
“Well, I guess it's full as much as that,” said the girl, with a flattered laugh.
“Dunno how high you are?” suggested the captain, glancing at her again.
“Well, yes, I do. I am just five feet two inches and a half.”
“You don't look it,” said the captain critically.