. “And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather. "Well, well; look who's here!" cried Spurlock. Read it, and you'll find that your unfortunate uncle, Sir Rowland, surrenders to you all the estates in Lancashire. You have no grasp upon the essential facts of life (I pray God you never may), and in your rash ignorance you are prepared to dash into positions that may end in lifelong regret. En tout cas, no one has asked you to puzzle out anything at all. That is the dreadful truth. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him. Now for it, Thames! Make as great a row as you can to divert his attention.
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