I made a loss, but had the satisfaction of "doing" Captain Goyles.

I left the _Rogue_ in charge of a local mariner, who, for a couple of sovereigns, undertook to see to its return to Harwich; and we came back to London by train.

There may be yachts other than the _Rogue_, and skippers other than Mr.Goyles, but that experience has prejudiced me against both.
George also thought a yacht would be a good deal of responsibility, so we dismissed the idea.
"What about the river ?" suggested Harris.
"We have had some pleasant times on that." George pulled in silence at his cigar, and I cracked another nut.
"The river is not what it used to be," said I; "I don't know what, but there's a something--a dampness--about the river air that always starts my lumbago." "It's the same with me," said George.

"I don't know how it is, but I never can sleep now in the neighbourhood of the river.

I spent a week at Joe's place in the spring, and every night I woke up at seven o'clock and never got a wink afterwards." "I merely suggested it," observed Harris.