But he was little given to thought, although not ill-humored in intention.
"Behold that building!" said he.

"That looks like a brewery! Consider the sea of beer they brew there once a month, and then think of your oath of abstinence and what you miss!" So he talked, ever nudging me in the ribs until I grew sore and my very gorge revolted at his foolishness.

So we sailed, passing along a river that at another time would have delighted me beyond power of speech.

A day and a night we sailed, our little steamer being one of a fleet all going one way.

Tugs and tugs and tugs there were, all pulling strings of barges.