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Jacobs, W. W., 1863-1943

"Many Cargoes"

"Why don't you go down
and have it out with her like a man? She can't eat you."
"I'm not going to," said the other shortly. "I'm a determined man, and
when I say a thing I mean it. It's going to be broken to her gradual, as
I said; I don't want her to be scared, poor thing."
"I know who'd be scared the most," murmured the mate.
The skipper looked at him fiercely, and then sat down wearily on the
hatches with his hands between his knees, rising, after a time, to get
the dipper and drink copiously from the water-cask. Then, replacing it
with a sigh, he bade the mate a surly good-night and went below.
To his dismay he found when he awoke in the morning that what little
wind there was had dropped in the night, and the billy-boy was just
rising and falling lazily on the water in a fashion most objectionable
to an empty stomach. It was the last straw, and he made things so
uncomfortable below that the crew were glad to escape on deck, where
they squatted down in the bows, and proceeded to review a situation
which was rapidly becoming unbearable.
"I've 'ad enough of it, Joe," grumbled the boy. "I'm sore all over with
sleeping on the floor, and the old man's temper gets wuss and wuss. I'm
going to be ill."
"Whaffor?" queried Joe dully.
"You tell the missus I'm down below ill.


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