Jermin, Mr.Jermin--carpenter, carpenter; what are you doing down there?
Come on deck; come on deck." Whereupon Doctor Long Ghost cries out in a squeak, "Ah! Miss Guy, is that you?
Now, my dear, go right home, or you'll get hurt." "Pooh, pooh! you, sir, whoever you are, I was not speaking to you; none of your nonsense.

Mr.Jermin, I was talking to you; have the kindness to come on deck, sir; I want to see you." "And how, in the devil's name, am I to get there ?" cried the mate, furiously.

"Jump down here, Captain Guy, and show yourself a man.

Let me up, you Chips! unhand me, I say! Oh! I'll pay you for this, some day! Come on, Captain Guy!" At this appeal, the poor man was seized with a perfect spasm of fidgets.

"Pooh, pooh, carpenter; have done with your nonsense! Let him up, sir; let him up! Do you hear?
Let Mr.Jermm come on deck!" "Go along with you, Paper Jack," replied Beauty; "this quarrel's between the mate and me; so go aft, where you belong!" As the captain once more dipped his head down the scuttle to make answer, from an unseen hand he received, full in the face, the contents of a tin can of soaked biscuit and tea-leaves.