Long before he had time to fix upon an
appropriate form of words Geoffrey broke in:
"This is what it is, father. Master Lirriper is going down the river
to Bricklesey tomorrow, and then he is going on board his nephew's
ship. She is a ketch, and she carries ten tons, though I don't
know what it is she carries; and she's going to London, and he is
going in her, and he says if you will let him he will take us with
him, and will show us London, and take great care of us. It will
be glorious, father, if you will only let us go."
Mr. Vickars looked blankly as Geoffrey poured out his torrent of
words. His mind was still full of the book he had been reading,
and he hardly took in the meaning of Geoffrey's words.
"Going in a ketch!" he repeated. "Going to catch something, I
suppose you mean? Do you mean he is going fishing?"
"No, father, -- going in a ketch. A ketch is a sort of ship, father,
though I don't quite know what sort of ship. What sort of ship is
a ketch, Master Lirriper?"
"A ketch is a two masted craft, Master Geoffrey," John Lirriper
said. "She carries a big mizzen sail."
"There, you see, father," Geoffrey said triumphantly; "she carries
a big mizzen sail. That's what she is, you see; and he is going to
show us London, and will take great care of us if you will let us
go with him."
"Do you mean, Master Lirriper," Mr.
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