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 (Whispering.)

“What is the good of it”? Dunno! It just had, someway, to be so.

(Resolutely.)

“What is the Good of it?” Look here! You take an’ riddle this out clear!

(To the boat.)

Stand there! Are you some good or not? What’s a ship good for? Well, she sails Over the sea. What for? To hand Over to some one else’s land People, an’ cargo-stuff, an’ mails. Could you do that? O’ course, cut down All round, an’ kind o’ tucks took in.... We’ll say, a needle, an’ a pin, A post-card, an’ a dozen fleas, Passengers, like: could you take these, Well—over to the Point, say?

Oh, Ain’t it all fiddle-sticky stuff! Ain’t it a sickly suck, all round! You try an’ git across the Bay? How ’ud them insecks know the way? How ’ud they ever keep you wound? Ugh! makes me cringe inside o’ me, To fancy what a fool you’d be, Peacockin’ in the real live sea!