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But it was not a tale of marvels he told, nor of beautiful flower-lands nor mysterious Eastern cities. "What like is Java?" she asked once. "Full o' fever. Half the crew down wuth ut an' luttle work. Ut was quinine an' quinine the whole blessed time. Each marnun' 'twas quinine an' gin for all hands on an empty stomach. An' they who was no sick made ut out to be hovun' ut bad uz the rest."
"My Sunday coat!" shrieked Stuppeny. "Yes quick! I can't wait here all day." "But I can't put on my good coat wudout cleaning myself, and it'll täake me the best part o' the marnun to do that." Joanna saw the reasonableness of his objection. "Oh, well, you can leave it this once, but another time you remember and look decent.
An' always of a marnun', when first ut crawled tull the kutchen-door an' blunked out ot the sun, ut brayed. An' ut was brayun' that brought about uts end. "I mind me well. Ut was three years old an' oz bug oz a led o' ten. Old Tom hed been goun' from bed tull worse, ploughun' up an' down the fields an' talkun' an' mutterun' tull humself.
"An' next marnun', just uz I'm after dressun', the steward says, 'A mon tull see ye, sir. 'Fetch hum un, says I. An' un he come. 'Sut down, says I. An' he sot down. "He was the owner of the lighter, an' when he hod told hus story, I says, 'I dudna see ony lighter. "'What, mon? says he. 'No see a two-hundred-ton lighter, bug oz a house, alongside thot shup?
"We was runnin' our Eastun' down, an' makun' heavy weather of ut. Oz fine a sailor-mon oz ever walked was Samuel Henan. I remember the look of hum wull thot last marnun', a-watch-un' them bug seas curlun' up astern, an' a- watchun' the old girl an' seeun' how she took them the skupper down below an' drunkun' for days.
An' sunce there be balance un all thungs, so wull there be balance wuth me. Sux o' one an' half a dozen o' the other there uz the balance, an' oz sure oz the sun rises un the marnun', thot sure wull ut be a boy." And boy it was, and a prodigy. Dr.
On the marnun' o' the day I mind me, he was suttun' on the bench outside the kutchen, a-futtun' the handle tull a puck-axe. Unbeknown, the monster eediot crawled tull the door an' brayed after hus fashion ot the sun. I see old Tom start up an' look. An' there was the monster eediot, waggun' uts bug head an' blunkun' an' brayun' like the great bug ass ut was. Ut was too much for Tom.
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