"'It seems peaceable,' whispers the fust mate, arter awhile.
"'P'raps it ain't hungry,' ses the skipper. 'We'd better not let it get
peckish. Try it with a loaf o' bread.'
"The cook went below and fetched up half-a-dozen, an' one o' the chaps,
plucking up courage, slung it over the side, an' afore you could say
'Jack Robinson' the sarpint had woffled it up an' was looking for more.
It stuck its head up and came close to the side just like the swans in
Victoria Park, an' it kept that game up until it had 'ad ten loaves an'
a hunk o' pork.
"'I'm afraid we're encouraging it,' ses the skipper, looking at it as it
swam alongside with an eye as big as a saucer cocked on the ship.
"'P'raps it'll go away soon if we don't take no more notice of it,' ses
the mate. 'Just pretend it isn't here.'
"Well, we did pretend as well as we could; but everybody hugged the port
side o' the ship, and was ready to bolt down below at the shortest
notice; and at last, when the beast got craning its neck up over the
side as though it was looking for something, we gave it some more grub.
We thought if we didn't give it he might take it, and take it off the
wrong shelf, so to speak. But, as the mate said, it was encouraging it,
and long arter it was dark we could hear it snorting and splashing
behind us, until at last it 'ad such an effect on us the mate sent one
o' the chaps down to rouse the skipper.
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