It was a wet day, and the boys were all assembled in the big play-room, not knowing exactly what to do, and ready for the first bit of fun which might turn up.
"Couldn't somebody draw Tim out ?" one of us whispered.
The idea caught like wildfire, and after a brief pause Tidswell, the monitor, said, amid the hushed attention of the company-- "By the way, Tim, wasn't that a queer account of the sea-serpent in the paper the other day ?" "Awfully queer," replied the unsuspecting Tim; "I didn't know you had seen it." "Fancy a beast a mile and a half long from head to tail!" "It's a good size," said Tim, "but nothing out of the common for a sea- serpent, you know." "Now I come to think of it, though," said Tidswell, "it didn't say that the _serpent_ was a mile and a half long; it was a mile and a half from the ship when it was seen, wasn't that it ?" "Yes, a mile and a half from the ship.

I _thought_ you were drawing the long bow in saying it was so big as all that." "They saw it a mile and a half off, and just fancy feeling its breath at that distance ?" "I'm not astonished at that," said Tim, "for all those beasts have enormous lungs." "How absurd of me! I should have said it seemed to all appearances lifeless when they saw it," said Tidswell.
"Yes; dead, in fact," put in Tim, getting into difficulties.
"And then suddenly it stood erect on its tail, and shot forward towards the vessel." "Shows the strength of their backs.

I couldn't help thinking that when I saw the account." "What am I talking about ?" exclaimed Tidswell, hastily correcting himself; "it was the ship stood in towards the monster and shot at him." "Ah, yes; so it was.

I made the same mistake myself, see.

Yes, they fired a broadside at him." "No; only one shot at his head." "That was all.