LITMIR.BIZ

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paused for a moment.

      "I'm looking for the Captain," he called back. "I find I forgot to tell the burgular who's rented my house that he mustn't steal my kitchen stove until I get back, and I want the Captain to turn around and go back for a few minutes so that I can send him word."

      "He wouldn't do that, Mr. Me," said Mollie.

      "Then let him set me on shore somewhere where I can walk back," said the Unwiseman. "It would be perfectly terrible if that burgular stole my kitchen stove. I'd have to eat all my bananas and eclairs raw, and besides I use that stove to keep the house cool in summer."

      "There isn't any shore out here to put you on," said Mollie.

      "Where's your bottle of native land?" jeered Whistlebinkie. "You might walk home on that."

      "Hush, Whistlebinkie," said Mollie. "Don't make him angry."

      "Well," said the Unwiseman ruefully. "I'm sure I don't know what to do about it. It is the only kitchen stove I've got, and it's taken me ten years to break it in. It would be very unfortunate just as I've got the stove to do its work exactly as I want it done to go and lose it."

      "Why don't you send a wireless message?" suggested Mollie. "They've got an office on board, and you can telegraph to him."

      "First rate," said the old man. "I'd forgotten that." And the Unwiseman sat down and wrote the following dispatch:

      Dear Mr. Burgular:

      Please do not steal my kitchen stove. If you need a stove steal something else like the telephone book or that empty bottle of Woostershire Sauce standing on the parlor mantel-piece with the daisy in it, and sell them to buy a new stove with the money. I've had that stove for ten years and it has only just learned how to cook and it would be very annoying to me to have to get a new one and have to teach it how I like my potatoes done. You know the one I mean. It's the only stove in the house, so you can't get it mixed up with any other. If you do I shall persecute you to the full extent of the law and have you arrested for petty parsimony when I get back. If you find yourself strongly tempted to steal it the best thing to do is to keep it red hot with a rousing fire on its insides so that it will be easier for you to keep your hands off.

Yours trooly,The Unwiseman.

      P.S. Take the poker if you want to but leave the stove. It's a wooden poker and not much good anyhow.

Yours trooly,The Unwiseman.

      "There!" he said as he finished writing out the message. "I guess that'll fix it all right."

      "It-tortoo," whistled Whistlebinkie through the top of his hat.

      "What?" said Mollie, severely.

      "It-ought-to-fix-it," repeated Whistlebinkie.

      And the Unwiseman ran up the deck to the wireless telegraph office. In a moment he returned, his face full of joy.

      "I guess I got the best of 'em that time!" he chortled gleefully. "What do you suppose Mollie? They actually wanted me to pay twenty-one dollars and sixty cents for that telegram. The very idea!"

      "Phe-ee-ew!" whistled Whistlebinkie.

      "Very far from few," retorted the Unwiseman. "It was many rather than few and I told the man so. 'I can buy five new kitchen stoves for that amount of money,' said I. 'I can't help that,' said the man. 'I guess you can't,' said I. 'If you could the price o' kitchen stoves would go up'."

      "What did you do?" asked Mollie.

      "I told him I was just as wireless as he was, and I tossed my message up in the air and last time I saw it it was flying back to New York as tight as it could go," said the Unwiseman. "I guess I can send a message without wires as well as anybody else. It's a great load off my mind to have it fixed, I can tell you," he added.

      "What have you been doing with yourself since I saw you last, Mr. Me?" asked Mollie, as her old friend seated himself on the foot-rest of her steamer chair.

      "O I've managed to keep busy," said the Unwiseman, gazing off at the rolling waves.

      Whistlebinkie laughed.

      "See-zick?" he whistled.

      "What me?" asked the Unwiseman. "Of course not – we sailors don't get sea-sick like land-lubbers. No, sirree. I've been a little miserable due to my having eaten something that didn't agree with me – I very foolishly ate a piece of mince pie about five years ago – but except for that I've been feeling first rate. For the most part I've been watching the screw driver – they've got a big steam screw driver down-stairs in the cellar that keeps the screws to their work, and I got so interested watching it I've forgotten all about meals and things like that."

      "Have you seen horrizon yet?" asked Whistlebinkie.

      "Yes," returned the Unwiseman gloomily. "It's about the stupidest thing you ever saw. See that long line over there where the sky comes down and touches the water?"

      "Yep," said Whistlebinkie.

      "Well that's what they call the horrizon," said the Unwiseman contemptuously. "It's nothin' but a big circle runnin' round and round the scenery, day and night, now and forever. It won't go near anybody and it won't let anybody go near it. I guess it's just about the most unsociable fish that ever swam the sea. Speakin' about fish, what do you say to trollin' for a whale this afternoon?"

      "That would be fine!" cried Mollie. "Have you any tackle?"

      "Oh my yes," replied the Unwiseman. "I've got a half a mile o' trout line, a minnow hook and a plate full o' vermicelli."

      "Vermicelli?" demanded Mollie.

      "Yes – don't you know what Vermicelli is? It's sort of baby macaroni," explained the Unwiseman.

      "What good is it for fishing?" asked Whistlebinkie.

      "I don't know yet," said the Unwiseman "but between you and me I don't believe if you baited a hook with it any ordinary fish who'd left his eyeglasses on the mantel-piece at home could tell it from a worm. I neglected to bring any worms along in my native land bottle, and I've searched the ship high and low without finding a place where I could dig for 'em, so I borrowed the vermicelli from the cook instead."

      "Does-swales-like-woyms?" whistled Whistlebinkie.

      "I don't know anything about swales," said the Unwiseman.

      "I meant-twales," said Whistlebinkie.

      "Never heard of a twale neither," retorted the Unwiseman. "Just what sort of a rubber fish is a twale?"

      "He means whales," Mollie explained.

      "Why don't he say what he means then?" said the Unwiseman scornfully. "I never knew such a feller for twisted talk. He ties a word up into a double bow knot and expects everybody to know what he means right off the handle. I don't know whether whales like vermicelli or not. Seems to me though that a fish that could bite at a disagreeable customer like Jonah would eat anything whether it was vermicelli or just plain catterpiller."

      "Well even if they did you couldn't pull 'em aboard with a trout line anyhow," snapped Whistlebinkie. "Whales is too heavy for that."

      "Who wants to pull 'em aboard, Smarty?" retorted the Unwiseman. "I leave it to Mollie if I ever said I wanted to pull 'em aboard. Quite the contrary opposite. I'd rather not pull a whale on board this boat and have him flopping around all over the deck, smashing chairs and windows, and knockin' people overboard with his tail, and spouting water all over us like that busted fire-hose the firemen turned on me when I thought I'd caught fire from my pipe."

      "You did say you'd take us fishing for whales, Mr. Me," Mollie put in timidly.

      "That's a very different thing," protested the Unwiseman. "Fishin' for whales is a nice gentle sport as long as you don't catch any. But of course if you're going to take his side against me, why you needn't go."

      And the Unwiseman rose up full of offended dignity and walked solemnly away.

      "Dear me!" sighed Mollie. "I'm so sorry he's angry."

      "Nuvver-mind," whistled Whistlebinkie. "He won't stay mad long. He'll be back in a little while with some more misinformation."

      Whistlebinkie

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