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"'Sure,' says Andy, getting the decision over a hiccup. 'It was in the
spring of last year that I sailed the Castle of Blenheim up to
latitude 87 degrees Fahrenheit and beat the record. Ladies,' says
Andy, 'it was a sad sight to see a Duke allied by a civil and
liturgical chattel mortgage to one of your first families lost in a
region of semiannual days.' And then he goes on, 'At four bells we
sighted Westminster Abbey, but there was not a drop to eat. At noon we
threw out five sandbags, and the ship rose fifteen knots higher. At
midnight,' continues Andy, 'the restaurants closed. Sitting on a cake
of ice we ate seven hot dogs. All around us was snow and ice. Six
times a night the boatswain rose up and tore a leaf off the calendar,
so we could keep time with the barometer. At 12,' says Andy, with a
lot of anguish on his face, 'three huge polar bears sprang down the
hatchway, into the cabin. And then--'
"'What then, Lieutenant?' says a schoolma'am, excitedly.
"Andy gives a loud sob.
"'The Duchess shook me,' he cries out, and slides out of the chair and
weeps on the porch.
"Well, of course, that fixed the scheme. The women boarders all left
the next morning. The landlord wouldn't speak to us for two days, but
when he found we had money to pay our way he loosened up.
"So me and Andy had a quiet, restful summer after all, coming away
from Crow Knob with $1,100, that we enticed out of old Smoke-'em-out
playing seven up."
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