Nawthin',' he says,
'wud give me gr-reater pleasure thin to have me handsome an' expinsive
raft in th' hands iv men who I wud considher it an honor to know,' he
says. 'An' so,' he says, 'I'll on'y ask ye to sign a bond an' lave a
small security, say about five hundherd thousan' dollars, in me hands in
case anny paint shud be knocked off me boat," he says. 'Yachtin' is a
gintleman's spoort,' he says, 'an' in dalin' with gintlemen,' he says,
'ye can't be too careful,' he says."
"What's Sir Lipton doin' all this time?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
"He's preparin' his bond, makin' his will, an' goin' through th' other
lagal preliminaries iv th' race. He's built a boat too. Th' King of
England was aboord iv her, an' he was near killed, be havin' a mast fall
on him. Th' Lord knows how he escaped. A mass iv steel weighin' a
hundherd thousan' ton fell on his Majesty an' bounced off. Sir Lipton
felt pretty bad about it. He didn't mind losin' a mast or two, but he
didn't want annywan to know he had th' king aboord. 'Twud hurt business.
'Boys,' says he to th' rayporthers, 'th' King's on me yacht. D'ye hear
me? Th' King's on me yacht. But don't say annything about it. I don't
want to have it known. Don't print it onless ye have to, an' thin put it
in an inconspicuous place, like th' first page.
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