In a boat, I have always noticed that it is the fixed idea of each member of the crew that he is doing everything. Harris’s notion was, that it was he alone who had been working, and that both George and I had been imposing upon him. George, on the other hand, ridiculed the idea of Harris’s having done anything more than eat and sleep, and had a cast-iron opinion that it was he⁠—George himself⁠—who had done all the labour worth speaking of.

He said he had never been out with such a couple of lazily skulks as Harris and I.

That amused Harris.

“Fancy old George talking about work!” he laughed; “why, about half-an-hour of it would kill him. Have you ever seen George work?” he added, turning to me.

I agreed with Harris that I never had⁠—most certainly not since we had started on this trip.