THE STEEL FLEA
So the left-handed man drank once more, and they became tipsy.
And the half-skipper questions him: "What secret are you carrying from our kingdom to Russia?"
The left-handed man replies: "That is my affair."
"If that is so," replies the half-skipper, "then let's make a bet after the English fashion."
The left-handed man asks: "What sort of a bet?"
"This sort: That neither of us shall drink anything alone, but always together, evenly; what one drinks, that the other also must drink, without fail, and the one who outdrinks the other wins."
The left-handed man reflects: "The sky is clouded, my belly is swelling; I am greatly bored; the way is long, and my native land is not visible beyond the waves; 't will be more merry to make this wager."
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