Neptune lowered his trident, and
presented the dolphin to the captain, as Amphitrite did her albicore,
in token of submission and homage to the representative of the King of
Great Britain.
"I have come," said the god, "to welcome you into my dominions, and to
present my wife and child." The captain bowed. "Allow me to ask after
my brother and liege sovereign, the good old King George."
"He is not so well," said the captain, "as I and all his subjects
could wish."
"More's the pity," replied Neptune; "and how is the Prince of Wales?"
"The Prince is well," said the captain, "and now governs as regent in
the name of his royal father."
"And how does he get on with his wife?" said the inquisitive god.
"Bad enough," said the captain; "they agree together like a whale and
a thrasher."
"Ah! I thought so," said the god of the sea. "His royal highness
should take a leaf out of my book: never allow it to be doubtful who
is commanding officer."
"And pray what might your majesty's specific be, to cure a bad wife?"
said the captain.
"Three feet of the cross-jack brace every morning before breakfast,
for a quarter of an hour, and half an hour on a Sunday."
"But why more on a Sunday than any other day?" said the captain.
"Why?" said Neptune, "why, because she'd been keeping Saturday night,
to be sure; besides, she has less to do of a Sunday, and more time to
think of her sins, and do penance."
"But you would not have a prince strike a lady, surely?"
"Wouldn't I? No to be sure, if she behave herself as _sich_, on no
account; but if she gives tongue, and won't keep sober, I'd sarve her
as I do Amphy--don't I, Amphy?" chucking the goddess under the chin.
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