Well, now, Mary Jane, I think you've started a story in my head. I don't think the sailor took the dog, exactly, but rather the dog went in search of him, perhaps at the bidding of the farmer, who said, 'Go find Jack', thinking he was somewhere 'round about the barn, and had no idea it would take Bingo miles and miles and many adventures before he trotted gaily up the gangplank and leaped into Jack's arms, and the lines were untied and the sails filled and they were off to adventures, and tune in next week, kiddos... All those adventures, through field and farm, over hill and dale, across the dark woods, and out of the clutches of numerous dog-catchers would keep the godchildren STILL for a number of miles on the train, I think, or get them settled down to bed. Always good to be able to spin these yarns o-u-t, you know.

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