The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over him. "Ah!" exclaimed Wild, looking angrily towards his supposed attendant. “I’m a big boy, you know. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by. Understand me! I forbid it. Flattened flowers aren’t for the likes of us. " "There is a great art in it, if you did," quoth he. Think better of it. ” Hill staggered to his feet and drew a folded paper from his pocket. ‘Don’t tell me.
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