'Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.....and three thirds,' Captain Bill counted.
'Doesn't that come to sixteen?' Horace asked.
'.............................................................................................That would be an easy mistake to make,' Captain Bill replied. 'Right, that's all of them.'
'So what now?'
'Errrrrrrrrrrr....welll..........I have to do the....analysis.'
'That sounds complicated,' said Horace.
'Oh horribly so! Could take hours.'
'And they taught you this in Captain School?'
'Oh yes!' Captain Bill replied. 'I think it was on day three? Day one was steering, navigation, things like that. Day two was how to keep your hat on straight and day three was seaweed measuring, when you're stuck on a sand bar....when your island has gone missing. I probably came top of the class, I often did.'
'I just don't understand what use it could be?'
'Well..........................................that's classified.'
'Why?'
'That's classified as well and the next thing you're going to ask me, that's also classified. I would normally check in the Big Book of Classified Captainy....Things. But I'm so sure that this is that I don't need to.'
'So, may I read you the poem now?'
'Errr, hmm, still terribly busy really. What with all the analalalysis and such and then I'll need to get back to Norma. She tends to get into a bit of a flap if I'm not there being in charge. I suppose I've got time for, let's see, the next four words.'
So Horace read the next four words.
And Captain Bill instantly forgot them.
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