Let's keep up our spirits.

Sing us a song, one of ye, and I'll give the chorus." "Sing if ye like, but I'll plug my ears, for one," said still another sulky varlet, with the toes out of his sea-boots, while all the rest with one roar of misanthropy joined him.
But Israel, riot to be daunted, began: "'Cease, rude Boreas, cease your growling!'" "And you cease your squeaking, will ye ?" cried a fellow in a banged tarpaulin.

"Did ye get a ball in the windpipe, that ye cough that way, worse nor a broken-nosed old bellows?
Have done with your groaning, it's worse nor the death-rattle." "Boys, is this the way you treat a watchmate" demanded Israel reproachfully, "trying to cheer up his friends?
Shame on ye, boys.

Come, let's be sociable.

Spin us a yarn, one of ye.