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Mr. Trunnell, Mate of the Ship "Pirate" by T. Jenkins (Thornton Jenkins) Hains
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turned away thankful that I was not homeward bound in that craft. She had
come into port a month before and had reported three men missing from her
papers. There were no witnesses; but the sight of the rest of the crew
told the story of the disappearance of their shipmates, and the skipper
had been clapped into jail. I had heard of the ruffian's sinister record
before, and inwardly hoped he would get his deserts for his brutality,
although I knew there was little chance for it. He belonged to the class
of captains that was giving American packets the hard name they were
getting, so I heartily wished him evil.

As I turned, looking up at the beautiful fabric with her long, tapering,
t'gallant masts, topped with skysail yards fore and aft, and her
tremendous lower yards nearly ninety feet across, I thought what a
splendid ship she was. It made me angry to think of what a place she must
be for the poor devils who would unwittingly ship aboard her. Only a
sailor knows how much of suffering in blows and curses it cost to
accomplish all that clean paint and scraped spar.

"Kind o' good hooker, hey?" said a voice close aboard me, and looking
quickly aft I saw a man leaning over the taffrail. He was a
strange-looking fellow, with a great hairy face and bushy head set upon
the broadest of shoulders. As for his legs, he appeared not to have any
at all, for the rail was but three feet high and his shoulders just
reached above it; his enormously long arms were spread along the rail,
elbows outward, and his huge hands folded over the bowl of a pipe which
he sucked complacently.

"Not so bad to look at," I answered, meaningly.

"She _is_ a brute in a seaway, but she keeps dry at both ends," assented
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