Gradually the expression of habitual good-humor settled on his visage,
as he looked from one to another of his sleeping comrades, and at last,
with a bland smile, he broke forth into the following soliloquy:

"Wot a goose, wot a grampus you've bin, John Bumpus: firstly, for goin'
to sea; secondly, for remainin' at sea; thirdly, for not forsakin' the
sea; fourthly, for bein' worried about it at all, now that you've made
up your mind to retire from the sea; and fifthly--"

Here John Bumpus paused as if to meditate on the full depth and meaning
of these polite remarks, or to invent some new and powerful expression
wherewith to deliver his fifth head. His mental efforts seemed to fail,
however; for, instead of concluding the sentence, he hummed the
following lines, which, we may suppose, were expressive of his feelings,
as well as his intentions:--

"So good-by to the mighty ocean,
And adoo to the rollin' sea.
For it's nobody has no notion
Wot a grief it has bin to me."

"Ease off the sheets and square the topsail yards," was at that moment
said, or rather murmured, by a bass voice so deep and rich that,
although scarcely raised above a whisper, it was distinctly heard over
the whole deck.

John Bumpus raised his bulky form with a degree of lithe activity that
proved him to be not less agile than athletic, and, with several others,
sprang to obey the order. A few seconds later the sails were swelled out