"I don't know," said Patty, smiling; "I will sing with pleasure if I am
asked, but it may not give my audience pleasure."

"It will be heaven for them!" declared the volatile young Frenchman,
clasping his hands in apparent ecstasy.

His exaggerated manner amused Patty, for she dearly loved to study new
types of people, and she began to think there was a varied assortment on
board.

Suddenly several people rushed wildly to the side of the boat. They were
followed by others, until it seemed as if everybody was crowding to the
rail. Patty followed, of course, and found herself standing by the side
of Bert Chester.

"What is it?" she exclaimed.

"A porpoise!" he replied, as if announcing an event of greatest
importance.

"A porpoise!" echoed Patty, disgusted. "Such a fuss about a porpoise?
Why, it's nothing but a fish!"

"My dear Miss Fairfield," said the Englishman, looking at her through
his single eyeglass, "tradition demands that steamer passengers shall
always make a fuss over a passing porpoise. To be sure it's only a fish,
but the fuss is because of tradition, not because of the fish."

Patty had always thought that a single eyeglass betokened a brainless
fop, but this stalwart young Englishman wore his monocle so naturally,