Then you got to your feet.
"'Michael,' says you quietly, 'I'm goin' to sea.

England's at war, and there's work to do.

So let's make for a king's ship, and have done with misery and poverty.' "Then you waved a hand to the man in command of the recruitin' gang, and presently stepped up to him and his friends.
"'Sir,' I said to you, 'I'm not going to be pressed into the navy.' "'There's no pressin', Michael,' you answered.

'We'll be quota men.
We'll do it for cash--for forty pounds each, and no other.

You let them have you as you are.