close-cropped, clear-eyed, though his face was yellow where it was not
red, and his tongue was soft in his head.

Dyck read the paper slowly and carefully. Then he handed it back without
a word.

"Well, what have you got to say?" asked Ferens. "Nothing? Don't you
think that's a strong list of grievances and wrongs?"

Dyck nodded. "Yes, it's pretty strong," he said, and he held up his
hand. "Number One, wages and cost of living. I'm sure we're right
there. Cost of living was down in King Charles's time, and wages were
down accordingly. Everything's gone up, and wages should go up. Number
Two, the prize-money scandal. I'm with you there. I don't see why an
officer should get two thousand five hundred times as much as a seaman.
There ought to be a difference, but not so much. Number Three, the food
ought to be better; the water ought to be better. We can't live on rum,
maggoty bread, and foul water--that's sure. The rum's all right; it's
powerful natural stuff, but we ought to have meat that doesn't stink,
and bread that isn't alive. What's more, we ought to have lots of lime-
juice, or there's no protection for us when we're out at sea with the
best meat taken by the officers and the worst left to us; and with foul
water and rotten food, there's no hope or help. But, if we're going in
for this sort of thing, we ought to do it decently. We can't slap a
government in the mouth, and we can't kick an admiral without paying
heavy for it in the end. If it's wholesome petitioning you're up to,
I'm with you; but I'm not if there's to be knuckle-dusting."

Ferens shrugged a shoulder.