Practice Typing

I had my passage on a little sea going steamer. Her captain was a Swede, and knowing me for a seaman, invited me on the bridge. He was a young man, lean, fair, and morose, with lanky hair and a shuffling gait. As we left the miserable little wharf, he tossed his head contemptuously at the shore. Been living there. he asked. I said, Yes. Fine lot these government chaps are they not.