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Ballantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael), 1825-1894

"The Coral Island A Tale of the Pacific Ocean"

--Ralph, lad, why don't you
laugh, eh?" he added, turning suddenly to me with a severe look of
inquiry.
"Laugh!" said I; "what at, Peterkin? Why should I laugh?"
Both Jack and Peterkin answered this inquiry by themselves laughing so
immoderately that I was induced to believe I had missed noticing some
good joke, so I begged that it might be explained to me; but as this
only produced repeated roars of laughter, I smiled and helped myself to
another slice of plantain.
"Well, but," continued Peterkin, "I was talking of a sail to-morrow.
Can't we have one, Jack?"
"No," replied Jack, "we can't have a sail, but I hope we shall have a
row, as I intend to work hard at the oars this afternoon, and, if we
can't get them finished by sunset, we'll light our candle-nuts, and
turn them out of hands before we turn into bed."
"Very good," said Peterkin, tossing a lump of pork to the cat, who
received it with a mew of satisfaction. "I'll help you, if I can."
"Afterwards," continued Jack, "we will make a sail out of the cocoa-nut
cloth, and rig up a mast, and then we shall be able to sail to some of
the other islands, and visit our old friends the penguins."
The prospect of being so soon in a position to extend our observations
to the other islands and enjoy a sail over the beautiful sea afforded
us much delight, and after dinner we set about making the oars in good
earnest. Jack went into the woods and blocked them roughly out with the
axe, and I smoothed them down with the knife, while Peterkin remained
in the bower spinning, or rather twisting, some strong, thick cordage
with which to fasten them to the boat.


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