“Lemuel Barker.”
“I thought may be there was a mistake all the while,” said the captain to the officer, while he wrote down Lemuel's name. “But if a man hain't got sense enough to speak for himself, I can't put the words in his mouth. Age?” he demanded savagely of Lemuel.
“Twenty.”
“Weight?”
“A hundred and thirty.”
“I could see with half an eye that the girl wan't very sanguine about it. But what's the use? I couldn't tell her she was mistaken. Height?”
“Five feet six.”
“Occupation?”
“I help mother carry on the farm.”
“Just as I expected!” cried the captain. “Slow as a yoke of oxen. Residence?”