CHAPTER XVIII
THE DIAGRAM
“What’s the use of being a philosopher and a thinker, Jeems,” inquired Jim, after the roar of laughter had spent itself at his ludicrous remark, “if you can’t invent some way to stop a mite of a pony like Mosquito?”
“There isn’t any use trying to be a philosopher,” said Jeems frankly, “when you are traveling with such a hair-brained gang as you fellows. A philosopher has to have time to think, and things keep happening so fast in your company, that you don’t get time to breathe. If it isn’t the mules running away it is Mosquito, and so it goes.”
“Cheer up, Jeems,” said Jo. “Just wait until we begin to cruise around the world on our yacht, then you will get lots of time to philosophize.”
“Don’t believe it,” replied Jeems skeptically. “If it isn’t pirates it will be sharks, and if it isn’t them it will be octopuses.”
“In your case it is more likely to be the mal de mer,” put in Jim with his easy command of French. I believe he had one other phrase that on occasion he could use.
“I suppose that they say de mer because they feel like demurring,” said Jo glibly.
“Sacre bleu, Jo!” cried Jim, using his other phrase. “Don’t be so smart.”
“Can’t help it,” replied Jo.