Fugen eBooks

Short came down and examined his superior officer.
"Is he dead?" inquired the corporal with alarm.
"No," replied Short.
"Vat can it be then?" said the corporal.
"Stunned," replied Short.
"Mein Got! how could it happen?"
"Tumbled," replied Short.
"What shall we do, sir?" rejoined the corporal.
"Bed," replied Short, turning on his heel, and a minute after turning
into his hammock.
"Mein Got, the dog will not let him go to bed," exclaimed the corporal.
"Let's put him in," said one of the marines, "the dog won't bite his
master."
So the marines lifted up the still insensible Mr Vanslyperken, and
almost tossed him into his standing bed-place, right on the body of the
snarling dog, who, as soon as he could disengage himself from the
weight, revenged himself by making his teeth meet more than once through
the lanthorn cheek of his master, and then leaping off the bed,
retreated growling under the table.
"Well, you _are_ a nice dog," exclaimed one of the marines, looking
after Snarleyyow in his retreat.
Now, there was no medical assistance on board so small a vessel.


Pages:
40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64