"Solid land's pretty good to hold on to," decided Cap'n Bill. "A
rope might break, you know."
"Oh, Cap'n Bill! You're scared stiff," said Trot.
"I ain't, mate. It ain't that at all. But I don't see that human
critters has any call to fly in the air, anyhow. The air were made
for the birds, an'--an' muskeeters, an'--"
"An' flyin'-fishes," added Trot. "I know all that, Cap'n, but why
wasn't it made for humans, too, if they can manage to fly in it? We
breathe the air, an' we can breathe it high up, just as well as down
on the earth."
"Seein' as you like it so much, Trot, it would be cruel for me to go
with Butt'n-Bright an' leave you at home," said the sailor. "When I
were younger--which is ancient history--an' afore I had a wooden
leg, I could climb a ship's ropes with the best of 'em, an' walk out
on a boom or stand atop a mast. So you know very well I ain't
skeered about the highupness."
"Why can't we all go together?" asked the boy. "Make another seat,
Cap'n, and swing it right under ours. Then we can all three ride
anywhere we want to go."
"Yes, do!" exclaimed Trot. "And see here, Cap'n, let's take a day
off and have a picnic. Mother is a little cross today, and she wants
to finish knitting your new stockin', so I guess she'll be glad to
get rid of us."
"Where'll we go?" he asked, shifting on his wooden leg uneasily.
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