Red found himself looking over the boats along the warf. They were all familiar makes except one. This had a wide heavy look not like the narrow river boats or the delecate boarding craft attached to the big ships. The wood was different too. Somehow it was from another place a different climet not assosiated with this one, which mostly saw African and Asian vessels.
A man, such as he rarely saw, came down to the warf and the strange boat. He was also waide and solid looking like his craft his hair fell in dark loose ringlets down his back and his cap was worked with strange patterns. He swore in a language harsh and somewhat familiar.
As the man made his return to the shore he saw Red and a light of recognition sprang to his eyes. He came to Red quite excited and adressed him. But Red could not understand. The man, a bit diapointed, kept trying different languages in turn finally hitting on English he asked, "English?"
"Yes, I speak that!" exclaimed Red
"You're English then?"
"Maybe, I'm not sure." replied Red
"I'm Dutch." the Dutchman said "you look like one of my cousins."
"Oh."
"How are you not sure you're English?"
"I've been to sea too long. But now that I think of it I don't think I'm really English. It dosen't sound right."
"Well, your English is better than mine" said the Dutchman. Red agreed with him. It was.
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