fact that he was a fatalist.

"Oh, I wish you'd do something to make me laugh," she broke in
suddenly.

"Are you ticklish?" inquired the Silly Ass quite soberly.

Miss Dorn could not help but titter; she was not at all put out.

"There!" said Mr. Masterson. "Now, you see, I have done it! Please
thank me. Now let me go on. You know, there is no doubt that the mind
of one person when thinking of----"

"Oh, don't let's think!" Miss Dorn leaned back against the rail, half
hidden from the gangway. "Isn't it dreary," she said, "this weather?
And look at those people all stretched out. I wish we could do
something to wake them up! The whole ship seems to have the
glooms--even the captain; he wouldn't speak a word to me at
breakfast."

"I could wake 'em up," said Mr. Masterson emphatically. "I could wake
the whole ship up, and the captain too, and the lootenant, and the
quartermaster, and the squingerneer, and the crew of the _Nancy Brig_,
if I wanted to--and your Uncle Admiral Elephant here, asleep in the
steamer-chair."

"Why, sure enough, there he is!" cried Miss Dorn. "He's got the
glooms, too; he says he always gets 'em in foggy weather at sea." She
turned and touched Mr. Masterson lightly on the arm. "Wake him up!"
she said, her eyes twinkling.