bin, to solve the problem of two into one, and
Wellington, somewhere under the water-line, daily gave a fine imitation
of hell-bound to a circle of admiring seamen.

To his last hour at sea Captain X will forever retain the memory of
what it cost him in strength of will to maintain his dignity, when,
standing straight and exceedingly beautiful, with one hand full of
lists, the huge bulldog at her feet, with a black bow under his left
ear, and an assembly of the greatest sufferers before her, Damaris, two
days before arriving at Port Said, solemnly read out the items and the
shop price of each article chewed, damaged or totally destroyed during
the voyage by the dog.

"Shoes, boots, pants, edges of trousers; two pipes, one pouch, six
packets of gaspers; one entire tray of crockery; one air-cushion
dropped in fright by stewardess; one coil of rope, one life-buoy, one
tin can dented, one man's ankles slightly bruised; one bare patch to
ship's cat's back. . . ." And so on and so forth; whilst murmurs arose
from the sufferers, who chorused that "they didn't want no
compensation, only too pleased to part with their bits, as long . . ."
etc., etc.

"I do not think the fault was all on one side, Miss Hethencourt,"
summed up the Captain, speaking in guttural consonant and flattened
vowel from suppressed emotion. "The--er--the plaintiff must have
approached the dog as he was chained and------"

"A bulldog," broke in Damaris, "is a magnet to the best in every human
being. They simply could not help themselves; they were drawn within
reach of his teeth; they----"

"I cannot quite------" interrupted the captain. "Yes?"

Chips, the carpenter, showed signs of bursting with information
withheld.

"Beggin' your pardon for interruption, sir, but what; the lady says is
true; we just couldn't keep away. I saw the Chink--beg pardon, sir, I
mean Ling-a-Ling the laundryman, burning joss-sticks in front of
'im,"--pointing of stub finger towards shameless dog--"one night when
the dawg was asleep. Jus' worship, please, sir, on all parts. And
Mrs. Pudge what didn't oughter 'ave been down in our quarters, dropped
the air cushion, sir, 'cause she missed in stays------"

"I cannot," interrupted the captain--then choked at a mental vision of
Mrs. Pudge, who scorned such frivolous inventions as whalebone to
support the figure--then trumpeted behind his handkerchief, ending in
that combined half-snort, half-giggle which is so disastrou