All his life he had loved ships, although he
had had nothing to do with any, except the galleys which he had sailed
in the road ditches. He knew very well that this city--where so many
battleships lay--couldn't be any place but Karlskrona.
The boy's grandfather had been an old marine; and as long as he had
lived, he had talked of Karlskrona every day; of the great warship dock,
and of all the other things to be seen in that city. The boy felt
perfectly at home, and he was glad that he should see all this of which
he had heard so much.
But he only had a glimpse of the towers and fortifications which barred
the entrance to the harbour, and the many buildings, and the
shipyard--before Akka came down on one of the flat church-towers.
This was a pretty safe place for those who wanted to get away from a
fox, and the boy began to wonder if he couldn't venture to crawl in
under the goosey-gander's wing for this one night. Yes, that he might
safely do. It would do him good to get a little sleep. He should try to
see a little more of the dock and the ships after it had grown light.
The boy himself thought it was strange that he could keep still and wait
until the next morning to see the ships. He certainly had not slept five
minutes before he slipped out from under the wing and slid down the
lightning-rod and the waterspout all the way down to the ground.
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