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Jacobs, W. W., 1863-1943

"Many Cargoes"

What it means I don't know. I'm going down to turn in. I ain't fit
for duty. You don't mind being left alone till the mate comes up, do
you?"
"I ain't afraid," said Bob.
His superior officer disappeared below, and, shaking the sleepy mate,
who protested strongly against the proceedings, narrated in trembling
tones his horrible experiences.
"If I were you "--said the mate.
"Yes?" said the skipper, waiting a bit. Then he shook him again,
roughly.
"What were you going to say?" he inquired.
"Say?" said the mate, rubbing his eyes. "Nothing."
"About the cat?" suggested the skipper.
"Cat?" said the mate, nestling lovingly down in the blankets again.
"Wha' ca'--goo' ni'"--
Then the skipper drew the blankets from the mate's sleepy clutches, and,
rolling him backwards and forwards in the bunk, patiently explained to
him that he was very unwell, that he was going to have a drop of whiskey
neat, and turn in, and that he, the mate, was to take the watch. From
this moment the joke lost much of its savour for the mate.
"You can have a nip too, Dick," said the skipper, proffering him the
whiskey, as the other sullenly dressed himself.
"It's all rot," said the mate, tossing the spirits down his throat, "and
it's no use either; you can't run away from a ghost; it's just as likely
to be in your bed as anywhere else.


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