THE MAN OVERBOARD


I

The good ship _Nupple-duck_ was drifting rapidly upon a sunken coral
reef, which seemed to extend a reasonless number of leagues to the right
and left without a break, and I was reading Macaulay's "Naseby Fight" to
the man at the wheel. Everything was, in fact, going on as nicely as
heart could wish, when Captain Abersouth, standing on the
companion-stair, poked his head above deck and asked where we were.
Pausing in my reading, I informed him that we had got as far as the
disastrous repulse of Prince Rupert's cavalry, adding that if he would
have the goodness to hold his jaw we should be making it awkward for the
wounded in about three minutes, and he might bear a hand at the pockets
of the slain. Just then the ship struck heavily, and went down!

Calling another ship, I stepped aboard, and gave directions to be taken
to No. 900 Tottenham Court Road, where I had an aunt; then, walking aft
to the man at the wheel, asked him if he would like to hear me read
"Naseby Fight." He thought he would: he would like to hear that, and
then I might pass on to something else--Kinglake's "Crimean War," the
proceedings at the trial of Warren Hastings, or some such trifle, just
to wile away the time till eight bells.

All this time heavy clouds had been gathering along the horizon directly