Edgar Jepson

“ I've talked to lots of cabin-boys—lots. And if you're not going to get a desert island out of it, what's the good of it?" said Tinker.
"Then the books aren't true," said the Lady Noggs in a sorrowful voice.
"I fancy they were true enough, some of them. But they're all about things that happened years and years ago. The sea's getting crowded, I think," said Tinker.
"Well, then, what is one to do, when people behave badly?" said the Lady Noggs with some indignation.
Tinker shrugged his shoulders. "You can't do anything," he said. "You just have to sit tight." ”

“ After it she went through the village, and took a winding lane which leads away from Stonorill. She had not yet asked the nearest way to the sea; she was still too near her own country. She had lost the vengeful feeling inspired into her by the outrage of her dignity; the spirit of adventure filled her to the exclusion of everything else; and since adventures are to the adventurous, she came straight to one. She had gone more than a mile down the lane, when she heard round a bend in front of her the crying of a kitten. ”

“ A faint, retrospective smile brightened Tinker's face as he said: "It sometimes happens."
"Well, but it wasn't fair as well," the Lady Noggs protested. "I only made the apple-pie bed for Lord Grasthwaite just to show him that he'd stayed long enough. Uncle doesn't like him to stay at Stonorill; he bores him to extinction. I don't know what extinction is, but I heard him say so; and it must be horrid. That's why I did it; and it isn't fair I should be scolded for it."
"It's very hard to do anything for grown-ups, " said Tinker. "They're scarcely ever thankful. ”