csf.mrmidshipmanhornblower

　A January gale was roaring up the Channel, blustering loudly, and bearing in its bosom rain squalls whose big drops rattled loudly on the tarpaulin clothing of those among the officers and men whose duties kept them on deck. So hard and so long had the gale blown that even in the sheltered waters of Spithead the battleship moved uneasily at her anchors, pitching a little in the choppy seas, and snubbing herself against the tautened cables with unexpected jerks. A shore boat was on its way out to her, propelled by oars in the hands of two stur。...
    PS：再请大家收藏与推荐本书，谢谢。
　**** ****　**** ****　**** ****　**** ****　**** ****　****
赶快推广加积分吧！（↓ 下方为推广链接，开始轻松赚积分吧！）