Having dried myself, I ran down and brought up a clean shirt for Dick, who asked Truck to fasten his up in the rigging.
“Better souse it out with fresh water first, or you wouldn’t find it pleasant to put on again,” answered the captain, laughing; “the salt would tickle your skin, I’ve a notion.”
“Not if it is dry, surely?” asked Dick.
“Yes; you see the salt would remain. Why, you’d have as much salt in that shirt as would serve you for dinner for a week if I was to, dry it in the sun without rinsing it out. Haven’t you ever seen salt in the holes of the rocks?”
Dick had not, but I very frequently had.
“How do you think that salt comes there?” asked Truck.
Dick could not tell.
“Why, it’s just this: the sun draws up the fresh water, and doesn’t draw up the salt, but leaves that behind. If it wasn’t for that, we should have salt rain; and a pretty go that would be; for all the trees, and plants, and grass would be killed, and vessels, when away from land and hard up for water, would not be able to get any.”
We had been so busy dressing that we had not had time to admire the harbour. We now agreed that it looked a very beautiful spot, with bright green fields and the white houses of the town, with Pendennis Castle on the western point and Saint Mawes opposite to it. Facing Falmouth we could see Flushing, and church towers and villas on the shores of the river Fal away to the northward.
On going on shore, however, the place did not appear quite so attractive, and the streets and alleys had a Wapping look about them, and were redolent of the odours of a seaport. But as we got out of the more commercial part, the town improved greatly. One of the most interesting buildings we visited was that of the Cornwall Sailors’ Home, though there were many other fine public buildings.