Of The Sorcerers In The Isle Of Minda "Tiffin! tiffin!" cried Media; "time for tiffin! Up, comrades! and while the mat is being spread, walk we to the bow, and inhale the breeze for an appetite.

Hark ye, Vee-Vee! forget not that calabash with the sea-blue seal, and a round ring for a brand.

Rare old stuff, that, Mohi; older than you: the circumnavigator, I call it.

My sire had a canoe launched for the express purpose of carrying it thrice round Mardi for a flavor.

It was many moons on the voyage; the mariners never sailed faster than three knots.