He swore right and left at the sailors without the slightest regard for their feelings.

They didn't mind it a bit, however, but went on singing-- "Heave ho! With the rum below, And hurrah for the Spanish Main O!" I will not be positive about "the Spanish Main," but it was hurrah for something O.I considered them very jolly fellows, and so indeed they were.

One weather-beaten tar in particular struck my fancy--a thick-set, jovial man, about fifty years of age, with twinkling blue eyes and a fringe of gray hair circling his head like a crown.

As he took off his tarpaulin I observed that the top of his head was quite smooth and flat, as if somebody had sat down on him when he was very young.
There was something noticeably hearty in this man's bronzed face, a heartiness that seemed to extend to his loosely knotted neckerchief.

But what completely won my good-will was a picture of enviable loveliness painted on his left arm.