came to regard the white men as brothers--so true is it that "the tailor
makes the man!"

"'Ow 'orribly 'eavy it is, _h_ain't it?" gasped Mivins, after dancing
round the main-hatch till he was nearly exhausted.

"Heavy!" cried Buzzby, whose appearance was such that you would have
hesitated to say whether his breadth or length was greater--"heavy, d'ye
say? It must be your sperrits wot's heavy, then, for I feel as light as
a feather myself."

"O morther! then may I niver sleep on a bed made o' sich feathers!"
cried O'Riley, capering up to Green, the carpenter's mate, and throwing
a mass of snow in his face. The frost rendered it impossible to form the
snow into balls, but the men made up for this by throwing it about each
other's eyes and ears in handfuls.

"What d'ye mean by insultin' my mate?--take that!" said Peter Grim,
giving the Irishman a twirl that tumbled him on the deck.

"Oh, bad manners to ye!" spluttered O'Riley, as he rose and ran away;
"why don't ye hit a man o' yer own size?"

"'Deed, then, it must be because there's not one o' my own size to hit,"
remarked the carpenter with a broad grin.

This was true. Grim's colossal proportions were increased so much by his
hairy dress that he seemed to have spread out into the dimensions of
two large men rolled into one. But O'Riley was not to be overturned with
impunity. Skulking round behind the crew, who were laughing at Grim's