waved his hand in welcome, and the "doctor" nodded and showed his white
teeth. The bos'n was holding forth in full swing in an argument with one
of the quartermasters, and Jim, the fellow I noticed in the morning, was
listening. He arose as I entered, as also did the quartermaster, but the
rest remained seated. I waved my hand in friendly acknowledgment and lit
my pipe at the lamp, while they reseated themselves.

"Yah, good mornin' to ye--if it ain't too late in the day," said Chips.
"Sit ye down an' listen to me song, for 'tis a quare ship, an' th' only
thing to do is to square our luck wid a good song. Cast loose, bos'n."

We were all new men to the vessel except the carpenter, and had never
even sailed in the same ship before on any previous voyage. Yet the
bos'n "cast loose" without further orders, and the "doctor" joined in
with his 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 one trying to out-bellow his neighbor. Sailors are a
strange set. It takes mighty little to please one at times when he
should, with reason, be sad; while, again, when everything is fair,
nothing will satisfy his whims.

When the yarn spinning and singing were over, I turned out for my first
watch well pleased with my shipmates.




IV