Cable proved a failure," continued Robin, "the first one, the 1858 one, was a success at the beginning, no one can deny that."
"Ay, but how long did it last?" demanded the skipper, hitting the table with his fist.
"Oh, please, have pity on the tea-cups, uncle Rik," cried the hostess.
"Beg pardon, sister, but I can't help getting riled when I hear younkers talkin' stuff. Why, do you really suppose," said the captain, turning again to Robin, "that because they managed in '58 to lay a cable across the Atlantic, and exchange a few messages, which refused to travel after a few days, that they'll succeed in layin' down a permanent speakin'-trumpet between old England and Noof'nland—2000 miles, more or less—in spite o' gales an' currents, an' ships' anchors, an' insects, an' icebergs an' whales, to say nothing o' great sea-sarpints an' suchlike?"
"Uncle Rik, I do," said Robin, with intensely earnest eyes and glowing cheeks.
"Bravo! Robin, you 'll do it, I do believe, if it is to be done at all; give us your hand, lad."
The old sailor's red countenance beamed with a huge smile of kindness as he shook his enthusiastic nephew's hand.
There," he added, "I 'll not say another word against iron kettles or Atlantic cables. If you
