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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 100, January 24, 1891 by Various
page 6 of 47 (12%)

"Here," I said, "is another tip-topper. What do you think of this
for a storm?--'The liquid acclivities were rising taller, and more
threatening. With a scream of passion the tortured ship hurled itself
at their deep-green crests. Cascades of rain, and hail, and snow,
were dashing down upon her unprotected bulwarks. The inky sky was one
vast thunder-clap, out of which the steely shaft of an electric flash
pierced its dazzling path into the heart of the raving deep. The
scud--'

"I know that scud," said a hateful voice. But, before I could
annihilate its owner, the pale face of Mr. SPILKINGS, with his
dead-eyes turned in, dashed breathlessly into the saloon. "By all
that's holy," he shouted, "the Captain's gone mad, and the crew have
thrown off all disguise. We are manned by ourang-outangs!"


CHAPTER IV.

Never shall I forget the horrors of the scene that ensued. We clewed
up the mizzen royal, we lashed the foretop to make it spin upon its
heels. The second dog watch barked his shins to the bone, and a
tail of men hauled upon the halliards to mast-head the yard. Nothing
availed. We had to be wrecked and wrecked we were, and as I clasped
ARAMINTA's trustful head to my breast, the pale luminary sailing
through the angry wrack glittered in phantasmal splendour on the scud
which--

[Here the MS. ends unaccountably.--ED. _Punch_.]

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