“Yes, indeed,” replied Mr. Elston. “They scrub the paint and polish the brass, and do more than any five women—begging your pardon, ladies—ever could.”
“Well, all the same, I wonder what they use to get it so absolutely perfectly clean.”
“Elbow-grease, plenty of elbow-grease.” And Mr. Elston smiled at the look of amazement on the faces of the girls. “Surely you remember the lines from ‘Pinafore’:—
“‘ When I was a lad, I served a term
As office-boy in an attorney’s firm.
I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor,
And I polished up the handle of the big front door,
I polished up the handle so carefully,
That now I am the ruler of the Queen’s Navee.’
“You see, the sailors carry this principle into all their work. And all expect, some time, to rise like Sir Joseph Porter, K. C. B.”
Now, while the older people talked and laughed at one end of the boat, in the shade of the awning extending from the cabin, Julia, Nora, and Brenda, in the bow, amused themselves by commenting on the various yachts in sight. There were not, to be sure, so very many to be seen, as the greater number of large craft had gone off on cruises extending over the holiday. Those remaining inside were simply those that did not belong to the classes entered for the races, or they were boats whose owners had guests whom they did not care to take sailing until the afternoon.
