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Ah Wing must have deserted; Amalu stowed away; and I turned him to as cook, and was never at the bother to sign him. Catch the idea? Say your names." And that pale company recited their lesson earnestly. "What were the names of the other two?" he asked. "Him Carthew shot in the companion, and the one I caught in the jaw on the main top-gallant?" "Holdorsen and Wallen," said some one.
The owner, Norris Carthew, was on board in the somewhat unusual position of mate; the master's name purported to be William Kirkup; the cook was a Hawaiian boy, Joseph Amalu; and there were two hands before the mast, Thomas Hadden and Richard Hemstead, the latter chosen partly because of his humble character, partly because he had an odd-job-man's handiness with tools.
If Carthew could get on deck again, it was as much as he could hope; and casting on the unfortunate a glance of pity, the tragic drunkard shouldered his way up the companion, dropped the case overboard, and fell in the scuppers helpless. With the first colour in the east, Carthew awoke and sat up.
To cut a long story short, sir, I'd been thinking about her for the better part of some time, because of the boy, sir, because of the boy. She likes him. If it hadn't been for the boy " "Careful, Carthew!" "Well, perhaps you're right, sir. She'd have copped me anyway." "I congratulate you, Carthew. You've been copped by the best parlourmaid in London." "Thank you, sir.
It's done now," said Mac; "and ye may bless God ye're not in pain, and helpless in the bargain." There was no more said by one or other, and the cabin was pretty well cleansed when a stroke on the ship's bell summoned Carthew to breakfast.
A moment later, he had fled, leaving me with a sheet of paper, thus inscribed: Norris Carthew, Stallbridge-le-Carthew, Dorset. I might have cried victory, the field of battle and some of the enemy's baggage remaining in my occupation. As a matter of fact, my moral sufferings during the engagement had rivalled those of Mr.
Before Carthew had noticed Mr. Prohack, Mr. Prohack noticed that Carthew's attitude to Miss Winstock showed a certain tolerant condescension, while Miss Winstock's girlish gestures were of a subtly appealing nature.
Carthew related his privations in the Domain, and his toils as a navvy; Hadden gave his experience as an amateur copra merchant in the South Seas, and drew a humorous picture of life in a coral island.
"We can't sleep ..." "Sleep!" echoed Carthew; and it seemed as if the whole of Shakespeare's Macbeth thundered at the gallop through his mind. "Well, then, we can't sit and chitter here," said Wicks, "till we've cleaned ship; and I can't turn to till I've had gin, and the gin's in the cabin, and who's to fetch it?" "I will," said Carthew, "if any one has matches."
"I've come to set your arm," said the captain. "I beg your pardon, captain," replied Mac; "but the firrst thing ye got to do is to get this ship to sea. We'll talk of me arrum after that." "O, there's no such blooming hurry," returned Wicks. "When the next ship sails in, ye'll tell me stories!" retorted Mac. "But there's nothing so unlikely in the world," objected Carthew.
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