But he was tired of the forecastle.

No boarding-house sharks in his.

He, too, would get a room in a quiet family, and he would go to a navigation school and study to be a captain.
And so it went.

Each man swore that for once he would be sensible and not squander his money.

No boarding-house sharks, no sailor-town, no drink, was the slogan of our forecastle.
The men became stingy.