when a young sailer prepared to set sail on his first voyage. Before he boarded the vessel, he came across an old pirate sitting drunkenly on the docks.
"Hey, old-timer," he began, "you look like you've seen your fair share of sea. Could you spare some advise for a young sailer?"
"Garr," he conceded.
"Well, I can't help but notice that you have a peg leg. Mind if I ask what happened?"
"Garr, it were a fine day out on da sea when I fell o'er board and a shark swam up 'n' ate me leg."
"Oh, I see. Best have my sea legs when the time comes," he replied. "But it looks like you lost your right hand. How'd you get that hook, old-timer?"
"Garr, it were another fine day out on da sea when me ship were boarded by buccaneers. Fought 'em off best we could, but I lost me hand in da fray."
"My swordsmanship could be improved." The young sailer looked appraisingly at his hands. "But tell me about that patch and how you lost your eye."
"Garr, it were another fine day out on da sea when a seagull flew o'er 'n' pooped in me eye."
The young sailer was at a loss. He had never heard of anyone losing an eye over a bit bird droppings.
"I don't understand," he replied. "You lost your eye because of seagull poop?"
"Garr," the old pirate said matter-of-factly. "It were me first day with me hook."
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