“Then, when I marry and have children, I must bring them up to follow my example, and the same result will, I hope, follow,” said the Count.
“That depends upon the example you set them,” answered the ancient fisherman.
“Ah, yes; I must see about it, then,” said the Count. “I don’t know that as yet I have ever done anything very industrious. Perhaps, like me, they will become great travellers.”
“Perhaps, my dear Count, the less you say about it the better, at present,” observed the Baron. “We have not proceeded very far on our voyage round the world. In the meantime, I will thank our hostess for another cup of her excellent tea.”
As there seemed no probability of the storm abating, the Count and the Baron accepted the invitation given them by the ancient fisherman and his dame, to spend the night in their cottage. They had no beds to offer, but they had comfortable arm-chairs, pipes, tobacco, and a blazing fire.
“We might be worse off,” observed the Baron, as he extended his legs and folded his arms to sleep.
It being impossible to reach the mainland without a boat, the Baron suggested, that after their experience, it would be safer to have one of their own than to entrust themselves again to strangers, and the Count agreeing, they settled to buy one. The next morning, therefore, after breakfast, having wished their ancient host and hostess farewell, and the Count having slipped a coin into the hand of the latter as a remembrance, they purchased a boat, which the ancient fisherman recommended, and helped them to launch: they then together set forth to prosecute their travels.
Neither of them were very expert navigators, though the ancient fisherman gave them a shove off to assist them in their progress, which was remarkably slow. Sometimes they rowed one way, and sometimes another, and the boat consequently went round and round.
“You pull too hard,” cried the Count.
“You don’t pull hard enough,” answered the Baron. “That is the reason we don’t go as straight as we should.”