ncommon pleasant dream, if it is one," remarked Jim Slagg,
with a grave stare at Robin, as he sat up on his couch. "I never in all
my born days dreamt such a sweet smell of coffee and fried sausages.
Why, the old 'ooman's a-bringin' of 'em in, I do declare. Pinch me,
Stumps, to see if I'm awake!"

As Stumps was still asleep, Slagg himself resorted to the method
referred to, and roused his comrade. In a few minutes they were all
seated at breakfast with the exception of the sailor, whom it was
thought best to leave to his repose until nature should whisper in his
ear.

"Well now," said Slagg, pausing to rest for a few seconds, "if we _had_
a submarine cable 'tween this and England, and we was to give 'em an
account of all we've seen an' bin doin', they'd never believe it."

"Cer'nly not. They'd say it wos all a passel o' lies," remarked Stumps;
"but I say, Mr Sam--"

"Come now, Stumps, don't `Mister' me any more."

"Well, I won't do it any more, though 'tain't easy to change one's
'abits. But how is it, sir, that that there electricity works? That's
what I wants to know. Does the words run along the cable,--or 'ow?"

"Of course they do, Stumpy," interrupted Slagg, "they run along the
cable like a lot o' little tightrope dancers, an' when they come to the
end o't they jumps off an' ranges 'temselves in a row. Sometimes, in
coorse, they spells wrong, like bad schoolboys, and then they've to be
walloped an' set right."

"Hold your noise, Slagg, an' let your betters speak," returned Stumps.

"Well, if they don't exactly do that," said Sam Shipton, "there are
people who think they can do things even more difficult. I remember
once, when I was clerk at a country railroad station and had to work the
telegraph, an old woman came into the ticket office in a state of wild
despair. She was about the size and shape of Meerta there, but with
about an inch and a half more nose, and two or three ounces less brain.

"`What's wrong, madam?' I asked, feeling quite sorry for the poor old
thing.

"`Oh! sir,' said she, clasping her hands, `I've bin an' left my
passel,--a brown paper one it was,--on the seat at the last station, an'
there was a babby's muffler in it--the sweetest thing as ever was--an'
f-fi' pun t-ten, on'y one sh-shillin' was b-bad--boo-hoo!'

"She broke down entirely at this point, so, said I, `Madam, make your
mind quite easy, sit down, and I'll telegraph at once,' so I
telegraphed, and got a reply