'How is she doing now ?' he asked.
'East and by no'the a half no'the,' said Davis.

'It's about as good as I expected.' 'What'll the hands think of it ?' said Herrick.
'Oh, they don't think.

They ain't paid to,' says the captain.
'There was something wrong, was there not?
between you and--' Herrick paused.
'That's a nasty little beast, that's a biter,' replied the captain, shaking his head.

'But so long as you and me hang in, it don't matter.' Herrick lay down in the weather alleyway; the night was cloudless, the movement of the ship cradled him, he was oppressed besides by the first generous meal after so long a time of famine; and he was recalled from deep sleep by the voice of Davis singing out: 'Eight bells!' He rose stupidly, and staggered aft, where the captain gave him the wheel.
'By the wind,' said the captain.

'It comes a little puffy; when you get a heavy puff, steal all you can to windward, but keep her a good full.' He stepped towards the house, paused and hailed the forecastle.
'Got such a thing as a concertina forward ?' said he.