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With a warning toot of the whistle, she went ahead, and the long tow-line swept the sea-tops, tautened, strained, and creaked on the windlass-bitts, and settled down to its work, while the schooner, dropping into her wake, was dragged westward at a ten-knot rate. "This is bully," said Elisha, gleefully. "Now I'll chalk out the position an' give her the course magnetic, to make sure."
He must know the worst of it in order to put the best of it to the proof. The worst passes, the best continues that is the secret enthusiasm of Mr. Masefield's song. Our final vision is of the ship in safety, holding her course to harbour in a fair wind: Shattering the sea-tops into golden rain. The waves bowed down before her like blown grain.
The snow whirled, the ship bowed to it, the gear lashed, The sea-tops were cut off and flung down smashed; Tatters of shouts were flung, the rags of yells And clang, clang, clang, below beat the two bells. How magnificent a flash of the fury of the storm we get when the Dauber looks down from his scramblings among rigging and snapped spars, and sees the deck
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