VOICES--Turn it off!

Shut up!

Sit down!

Closa da face!

Tamn fool! (Etc.)

YANK--[Standing up and glaring at Long.] Sit down before I knock
yuh down! [Long makes haste to efface himself. Yank goes on
contemptuously.] De Bible, huh? De Cap'tlist class, huh? Aw nix on
dat Salvation Army-Socialist bull. Git a soapbox! Hire a hall!
Come and be saved, huh? Jerk us to Jesus, huh? Aw g'wan! I've
listened to lots of guys like you, see, Yuh're all wrong. Wanter
know what I t'ink? Yuh ain't no good for noone. Yuh're de bunk.
Yuh ain't got no noive, get me? Yuh're yellow, dat's what. Yellow,
dat's you. Say! What's dem slobs in de foist cabin got to do wit
us? We're better men dan dey are, ain't we? Sure! One of us guys
could clean up de whole mob wit one mit. Put one of 'em down here
for one watch in de stokehole, what'd happen? Dey'd carry him off
on a stretcher. Dem boids don't amount to nothin'. Dey're just
baggage. Who makes dis old tub run? Ain't it us guys? Well den, we
belong, don't we? We belong and dey don't. Dat's all. [A loud
chorus of approval. Yank goes on] As for dis bein' hell--aw, nuts!
Yuh lost your noive, dat's what. Dis is a man's job, get me? It
belongs. It runs dis tub. No stiffs need apply. But yuh're a
stiff, see? Yuh're yellow, dat's you.