Mr. Trunnell

that Andrews had made in my hand with his knife, eight bells had struck, and the ste

nothing, and the skipper fell to with such a hearty good will that he appeared to entirely forget my presence. I hastily made some excuse to get back on deck, and the little, bushy-headed mate smiled and nodded approvingly at me as I went up the al

t side of the cabin skylight. The glass of the hatch was raised to let the cabin air, and I watched the bushy head beneath, with its aggressive beard bending

ick lips without spilling more than a commensurate amount of the stuff upon his beard, and injuring himself in no way whatever. The quick jerk with which he slipped the steel clear so as to have it ready for another load made me a trifle

e, after watching the mate apparently come

said T

silence for

ewest tools. Tools are good enough for mechanics; a

said T

a moment

that," said the skip

peared to s

id he. "There ain't nothin' remarkable about New Yo

cherm

nt about a hundred feet high on the island acrost the bay. There was a feller aboard as said they had cows there jus

was stuffed," expl

would 'a' been no bigger stuffed than alive. 'Tain't l

y look, and his nose worked busily l

h?" said he, while his nose wo

uch all I sees an' som

ell,

iphints, eh?-a hu

ld get the best o' the argument. I've opinions the same as you have, but when they don't agree with the rest o' the world, do I go snortin' around a-tryin' to sho

a man what believes in a few things-even if they's eliphints. What do

ion, but did not speak. He was a remarkably good-loo

last remark, but held himsel

who was skipper, especially after

d sailor," said Trun

ay?" said t

s," said Trunnell; and after t

an aversion to the skipper which had begun to creep upon me, I now saw that he was an observing fellow, and was quick to know the value of men. I didn't like his allus

ip carpenter who was not either a Russian, a Finn, or a Swede. The steward was a little mulatto, who announced, as

cene he had witnessed on the main deck in the mor

ood on the poop. There was a strange light in the young fellow's eye as he spoke, as if he wished to impart some information, and

"his skin is a little off th' color av roses

for what?

, to go ahead. There's a fellow for

advice," said the st

in command aboa

who is?"

ldly, for I did not approve of this sudden criti

man a-callin' a line a 'rope' or a bloomin' hooker like this a 'boat'? No, sir, ye can lay to it he's niver had a ship before; an' so says

he meat?" I asked, glad t

ort o'

steward, looking at me. "Jest so

man?" I asked. "You said he didn't belie

r turnin' back this mornin' an' tried to

mean it'

suaded Mr. Trunnell, an' wid ye too, 'twould ha' been no mutiny

st. There was no help for it now. We would be out for months with the ruffian skipper forward and the strange one aft. I said nothing more to the carpenter or steward, for it was evident that there had been some strong arguments used by Jim Potts against the regularity of the ship's company. The mor

hipshape. The skipper stood near the break of the poop much of the time, but gave no orders, and I noticed that Jim the sailor, or landsman,

ike a huge cloud resting upon a dark, floating object on the surface of the sea, which was carried along rapidly with it, brushing the foam to either side with a roaring, rattling, seething, musical noise. At least, this is the picture she presented from the forecastle head looking aft. Her great main yard swung far over the

the waist, sitting on the combings of the after-hatch, or walking fore and aft in the gangways to keep the blood stirring. All had pea coats or mufflers over their jumpers, for the air was f

do the steward and cabin boys; the steward, however, generally has a stateroom aft near those of the mates, while the "doctor" bunks next his galley. The carpenter having permission to burn a light, usually turns his shop or bunk-room into a meeting place for th

res of my shipmates if I could join in their conversation, or even listen to it for a while. My position as seco

uartermaster at the wheel knew his business. I edged toward the door of the house, and then seeing that my actions were not creating too much notice from the poop, I slid back the white panel and entered. The fog from damp clothes and bad tobacco hung heavy in the close air and made a blue halo about the little swinging lamp on the bulkhead. Chips, who was sitting on his sea-chest, waved his hand

"Sit ye down an' listen to me song, for 'tis a quare ship, an' th' only

bass voice. Then Chips and the rest bawled forth to the tune of "Blow a man down," and all the dismal prospect of the future in an overloaded ship, with bad food and a queer skipper, was lost in the effort of each o

ere over, I turned out for my first