human
That's what I call real ship-shape, declared Captain Bean, viewing the result.
gpt
Got any more notions, Lank?
human
Strikes me we ought to ship a mast so's we could rig a sprit-sail in case the old horse should give out, Cap'n.
gpt
We'll do it, Lank; fust rate idee!
human
She's as fine a land-goin' craft as ever I see anywhere,
gpt
Now, Cap'n, I'm ready to drive to Sculpin Point.
human
All right, Stashia, Lank's waitin' for us at the front door with the craft.