But we'll plough them, Wilks, my boy. We'll splice the spanker boom,
and port the helm to starboard, and ship the taffrail on to the lee
scuppers of the after hatch, and dance hornpipes on the mizzen peak.
Hulloa, captain, here's my mate, up to all sorts of sea larks; he can
box the compass and do logarithm sums, and work navigation by single or
double entry." The schoolmaster blushed for his companion, at whose
exuberant spirits the sedate captain smiled, while the shock-headed man,
whom Coristine named The Crew, displayed a large set of fairly preserved
yellowish teeth, and guffawed loud and long.
"Do I understand, Captain, that you are willing to take us to Barrie in
your--ah--vessel?" asked Wilkinson, politely.
"Aye, aye, my man," answered the ancient mariner, "get your leg aboard,
for we're going to sail right away. Hi, you, Sylvanus there, give
another haul on them halliards afore you're too mighty ready to belay,
with your stupid cackle."
So the indentured apprentices and their knapsacks got on board, while
Sylvanus, _alias_ The Crew, stopped laughing, and put a pound or two
extra on to the halliards.
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