42/57 Zach was skipper, but all he done was race around and holler and trip over his own feet. Oh, he's a prize sailor, he is! Don't talk to me about them Fosters! I--" "Nobody is talkin' about 'em but you, Zeb," observed Keziah drily. How about the squall ?" "It hit 'em 'fore they got even one tops'l clewed down. That one, the foretops'l 'twas, split to rags. |