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Jacobs, W. W., 1863-1943

"Many Cargoes"

If the wind
keeps fair we ought to be home by Sunday night or Monday morning."
The other nodded.
"Now, you keep your eyes open," said the skipper; and, going to his
state-room, he returned with three bottles of rum and a corkscrew, all
of which, with an air of great mystery, he placed on the table, and then
smiled at the mate. The mate smiled too.
"What's this?" inquired the skipper, drawing the cork, and holding a
bottle under the other's nose.
"It smells like rum," said the mate, glancing round, possibly for a
glass.
"It's for the men," said the skipper, "but you may take a drop."
The mate, taking down a glass, helped himself liberally, and, having
made sure of it, sympathetically, but politely, expressed his firm
opinion that the men would not touch it under any conditions whatever.
"You don't quite understand how firm they are," said he; you think it's
just a new fad with 'em, but it ain't."
"They'll drink it," said the skipper, taking up two of the bottles.
"Bring the other on deck for me."
The mate complied, wonderingly, and, laden with prime old Jamaica,
ascended the steps.
"What's this?" inquired the skipper, crossing over to Dick, and holding
out a bottle.
"Pison, sir," said Dick promptly.
"Have a drop," said the skipper jovially.


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