Giraffe asked this question. He was lying on his back on top of the
hunting-cabin of the little cruiser, taking what he termed a "sun bath;"
but which some of his chums always called "being too lazy too move."

"And so far none of us have felt the least bit seasick again," remarked
Step Hen, with what sounded like a fervent note of thanksgiving in his
voice, as though of all the mean things he could imagine, that of
feeling a sinking sensation at the pit of the stomach excelled.

"And I'm still leading Giraffe by three fish," declared Bumpus; "besides
having caught the biggest fish and the longest one in the bargain.
Better wake up, and get a move on you, Giraffe, or be counting on doing
all the drudgery when we have that blow-out supper on our return home."

"I ain't worrying any, Bumpus," lazily returned the other; "fact is, it
tickles me just to see you hustle around in your great fishing stunt.
Sure you're getting peaked, and as thin as anything, after such unusual
exertions. I wouldn't be surprised if some show offered you a job as
the Living Skeleton, if this thing keeps up much longer, because you're
fading away right along."

Bumpus looked himself all over, and if there was a shade of anxiety on
his rosy face it did not stay there long.

"I only wished what you said was half-way true, Giraffe," he sighed;
"but seems like nothing is ever agoing to take off two pounds from my
weight. I can't honestly see where there's a mite of a change; and I
know you can't neither. Stop your kidding, and get your lines out
again. I had a sure-enough nibble right then, and if you don't look