‘that I go after the North Pole all the Vanderbilts in Greenland won’t be able to turn me out in the cold—I mean make it hot for me.’
“‘Tell us about one of your trips, Lieutenant,’ says one of the normals.
“‘Sure,’ says Andy, getting the decision over a hiccup. ‘It was in the spring of last year that I sailed the Castle of Blenheim up to latitude 87 degrees Fahrenheit and beat the record. Ladies,’ says Andy, ‘it was a sad sight to see a Duke allied by a civil and liturgical chattel mortgage to one of your first families lost in a region of semiannual days.’ And then he goes on, ‘At four bells we sighted Westminster Abbey, but there was not a drop to eat. At noon we threw out five sandbags, and the ship rose fifteen knots higher. At midnight,’ continues Andy, ‘the restaurants closed. Sitting on a cake of ice we ate seven hot dogs. All around us was snow and ice. Six times a night the boatswain rose up and tore a leaf off the calendar so we could keep time with the barometer. At 12,’ says Andy, with a lot of anguish in his face, ‘three huge polar bears sprang down the hatchway, into the cabin. And then—’
“‘What then, Lieutenant?’ says a schoolma’am, excitedly.
97
