The captain took the wheel. A fat and very sleepy seaman put up the
side-lights, and the little schooner, detaching itself by the aid of
boat-hooks and fenders from the neighbouring craft, moved slowly down
with the tide. The men, in response to the captain's fervent orders,
climbed aloft, and sail after sail was spread to the gentle breeze.
"Hi! you there," cried the captain to one of the men who stood near him,
coiling up some loose line.
"Sir?" said the man.
"Where is the mate?" inquired the captain.
"Man with red whiskers and pimply nose?" said the man interrogatively.
"That's him to a hair," answered the other.
"Ain't seen him since he took me on at eleven," said the man. "How many
new hands are there?"
"I b'leeve we're all fresh," was the reply. "I don't believe some of 'em
have ever smelt salt water afore."
"The mate's been at it again," said the captain warmly, "that's what he
has. He's done it afore and got left behind. Them what can't stand
drink, my man, shouldn't take it, remember that."
"He said we wasn't going to sail till Wen'sday," remarked the man, who
found the captain's attitude rather trying.
"He'll get sacked, that's what he'll get," said the captain warmly. "I
shall report him as soon as I get ashore.
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