He refused to take into consideration what I was, or, rather, what my life and the things I was accustomed to had been.

This was part of the attitude he chose to adopt toward me; and I confess, ere the day was done, that I hated him with more lively feelings than I had ever hated any one in my life before.
This first day was made more difficult for me from the fact that the _Ghost_, under close reefs (terms such as these I did not learn till later), was plunging through what Mr.Mugridge called an "'owlin' sou'-easter." At half-past five, under his directions, I set the table in the cabin, with rough-weather trays in place, and then carried the tea and cooked food down from the galley.

In this connection I cannot forbear relating my first experience with a boarding sea.
"Look sharp or you'll get doused," was Mr.Mugridge's parting injunction, as I left the galley with a big tea-pot in one hand, and in the hollow of the other arm several loaves of fresh-baked bread.

One of the hunters, a tall, loose-jointed chap named Henderson, was going aft at the time from the steerage (the name the hunters facetiously gave their midships sleeping quarters) to the cabin.

Wolf Larsen was on the poop, smoking his everlasting cigar.
"'Ere she comes.