But if he works for me all the time, I'll let him sign on for two an' a half a month." "Eighteen days in the longboat," the Ancient Mariner shrilled, to Daughtry's startlement.

"Eighteen days in the longboat, eighteen days of scorching hell." "My word," quoth Daughtry, "the old gentleman'd give one the jumps.
There'll sure have to be plenty of beer." "Sea stewards put on some style, I must say," commented the wheat-farmer, oblivious to the Ancient Mariner, who still declaimed of the heat of the longboat.
"Suppose we don't see our way to signing on a steward who travels in such style ?" the Jew asked, mopping the inside of his collar-band with a coloured silk handkerchief.
"Then you'll never know what a good steward you've missed, sir," Daughtry responded airily.
"I guess there's plenty more stewards on Sydney beach," the captain said briskly.

"And I guess I haven't forgotten old days, when I hired them like so much dirt, yes, by Jinks, so much dirt, there were so many of them." "Thank you, Mr.Steward, for looking us up," the Jew took up the idea with insulting oiliness.

"We very much regret our inability to meet your wishes in the matter--" "And I saw it go under the sand, a fathom under the sand, on cross-bearings unnamable, where the mangroves fade away, and the coconuts grow, and the rise of land lifts from the beach to the Lion's Head." "Hold your horses," the wheat-farmer said, with a flare of irritation, directed, not at the Ancient Mariner, but at the captain and the Jew.
"Who's putting up for this expedition?
Don't I get no say so?
Ain't my opinion ever to be asked?
I like this steward.

Strikes me he's the real goods.