H. De Vere Stacpoole,
Vanderdecken
“ Hank was lying on the deck with a pillow under his head, snoring. The engine had been shut off to save gasoline, and the Wear Jack, with a Chink at the wheel and the main boom guyed out, was sailing dead before the wind, under a million stars, through a silence broken only by the bow wash and the snores of Hank.Candon, pacing the deck with George, was in a reflective mood.“Wonder what that Chink’s thinking about?” said he. “Home mostlike. They say every Chinaman carries China about with him in his box and unpacks it when he lights his opium pipe. Well, it’s a good thing to have a home. Lord! ”
