J. J. Bell

“ Nothin' wrong wi' me eyes.”
“An' I tells you, my lad,” said Bill, gravely, ” that there ain't any room for 'magination on a patrol boat, nor any sorter boat in these 'ere times. There's only one thing for ye to do, an' I'm sorry 'tis so. Take a longish spell on shore.”
“What?”
“An', in the meantime, turn in.”
“Can't sleep. What d'ye mean by a longish spell on shore? ”
“Why,” Bill unwillingly replied, “if ye sees things which ain't there, stands to reason ye'll miss things which is. ”

“ The young man cleared his throat. “'Twas like this. I sees, as I thinks, a Zeppelin. I opens me mouth an' is about to turn around an' shout—an' then I hears yer foot on the deck behind me. 'Twas gone! ”