Jack Tar

Peter, stopping whistling to interrupt.

Say, Jack, he means the prima donna what the young Prince of Wales says is an A-wanner.

Oh, you mean the opry singer.

She'll be leaving soon now.

What a damn shame.

Who told you?

Jack Tar up there.

At this moment, two sailors appear on the ship and struggle down the gangplank with a large trunk, which they place at one side and return up the gangplank.

Fanciful? Sailors' tales? Stories fit only for the marines? Perhaps, yet be not too sure.

Jack Tar, slow of speech, fearful of ridicule, knows more of the sea than he will tell to the newspapers.

Perhaps more than one has drifted to the Isle of Dead Ships and escaped only to be disbelieved in the maelstroms that await him in all the seaports of the world.

Facts are facts, nonetheless because passed on only by word of mouth, and this tale, based on matter gleaned beneath the tropic stars, may be truer than men are wont to think.

Peter, stopping whistling to interrupt.

Say, Jack, he means the prima donna what the young Prince of Wales says is an A-wanna.

Oh, you mean the opry singer.

She'll be leaving soon now.

What a damn shame.

Who told you?

Jack Tar up there.

At this moment, two sailors appear on the ship and struggle down the gangplank with a large trunk, which they place at one side and return up the gangplank.