Page:Dickens - A Child s History of England, 1900.djvu/697

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PERILS OF CERTAIN PRISONERS.
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the same, the sound of the soft wash and ripple of the water was usually so much the same, that they were made drowsy, as they might have been by the constant playing of one tune. Even on the grown people, who worked hard and felt anxiety, the same thing produced something of the same effect. Every day was so like the other that I soon lost count of the days myself, and had to ask Miss Maryon, for instance, whether this was the third or fourth? Miss Maryon had a pocket-book and pencil, and she kept the log; that is to say she entered up a clear little journal of the time, and of the distance our seamen thought we had made, each night.

So, as I say, we kept afloat and glided on. All day long, and every day, the water, and the woods, and sky; all day long, and every day, the constant watching of both sides of the river, and far ahead at every bold turn and sweep it made, for any signs of pirate-boats or pirate-dwellings. So, as I say, we kept afloat and glided on. The days melting themselves together, to that degree, that I could hardly believe my ears when I asked "How many now, miss?" and she answered, "Seven."

To be sure, poor Mr. Pordage had, by about now, got his diplomatic coat into such a state as never was seen. What with the mud of the river, what with the water of the river, what with the sun, and the dews, and the tearing boughs, and the thickets, it hung about him in discolored shreds like a mop. The sun had touched him a bit. He had taken to always polishing one particular button which just held on to his left wrist, and to always calling for stationery. I suppose that man called for pens, ink, and paper, tape and sealing-wax, upward of one thousand times in four-and-twenty hours. He had an idea that we should never get out of that river unless we were written out of it in a formal memorandum; and the more we labored at navigating the rafts, the more he ordered us not to touch them at our peril, and the more he sat and roared for stationery.

Mrs. Pordage, similarly, persisted in wearing her night-cap. I doubt if any one but ourselves, who had seen the progress of that article of dress, could by this time have told what it was meant for. It had got so limp and ragged that she couldn't see out of her eyes for it. It