Multiple canonicals, near miss

Pickles kept me alive for a month on a lonely island off Goa. I had only one, but it was the size of a rowboat. I ate the inside and sailed away in the rest. The sea got in, and I arrived in port both wet and slightly sour.

Windmills near Delft took to walking one stormy autumn. I caught the ringleader by his sails and gave him a talking to. He promised to settle down, and he ground flour for the poor. Two others fled toward France, and you may still spot them on a breezy day.

Camels spit only at liars, so you can guess why they adore me. In Arabia a herd of them followed me for miles, dry as dust and full of respect. One old bull offered me his hump. I declined, being a modest man, and rode two of them instead.

Soup nearly sank us off Crete. Our cook had made too much of it, and it rose up past the hatches. We bailed with spoons. At last we all sat down, tied on bibs, and ate the ship dry. No crew was ever so full or so brave.

Dreams are expensive in my family. I dreamed of a gold coach one night in Tallinn, and there it stood the.