"If the earth were pushed in a mile, it would be a great
calamity, wouldn't it?"
"I s'pose so," admitted the little girl.
"Well, here it is pushed in a full inch! That's a
twelfth of a foot, or a little more than a millionth part
of a mile. Therefore it is one-millionth part of a
calamity -- Oh, dear! How dreadful!" said Pessim in a
wailing voice.
"Try to forget it, sir," advised Cap'n Bill,
soothingly. "It's beginning to rain. Let's get under your
shed and keep dry."
"Raining! Is it really raining?" asked Pessim,
beginning to weep.
"It is," answered Cap'n Bill, as the drops began to
descend, "and I don't see any way to stop it -- although
I'm some observer myself."
"No; we can't stop it, I fear," said the man. "Are you
very busy just now?"
"I won't be after I get to the shed," replied the
sailor-man.
"Then do me a favor, please," begged Pessim, walking
briskly along behind them, for they were hastening to the
shed.
"Depends on what it is," said Cap'n Bill.
"I wish you would take my umbrella down to the shore
and hold it over the poor fishes till it stops raining.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68