[Afloat at Last by John Conroy Hutcheson]@TWC D-Link book
Afloat at Last

CHAPTER TEN
3/12

"I'll say to that same, sorr." "And, bosun--" "Aye, aye, sorr." "Just see if those pigs in the long-boat got damaged by that fellow tumbling on top of them.

His weight ought to have been enough to have made pork of some, I should think!" "Aye, aye, sorr," said Tim as he went off laughing; and I could hear his whispered aside to Adams, who was standing by the deck-house.

"Begorra, I'd have betted the ould skipper wouldn't forgit thim blissid pigs av his.

He wor thinkin' av thim all the toime that poor beggar wor fallin' from aloft, I belave!" Much to the captain's satisfaction, though, the grunting inhabitants of the long-boat were found to be all right, escaping as harmlessly as Joe Fergusson; and so, with his mind relieved Old Jock went below soon after "six bells," or two o'clock, leaving the charge of the deck to Mr Saunders--who, grumbling at the captain's rather insidious usurpation of his authority, had betaken himself to the lee-side of the taffrail, whence he watched the ship's wake and the foaming rollers that came tumbling after her, as she drove on before the stiff nor'-wester under reefed topsails and courses, the waves trying to poop her every instant, though foiled by her speed.
So things went on till midnight, when the men at the wheel were relieved, as well as the look-out forward, and the port watch came on deck; while, the starbowlines going below, Mr Mackay took the place of the second mate as the officer on duty.

Tom Jerrold, too, lugged out Sam Weeks and made him put in an appearance, much against his will; but nothing subsequently occurred to vary the monotony of the life on board or interfere with the vessel's progress, for, although it was blowing pretty nearly "half a gale," as sailors say, we "made a fair wind of it"-- keeping steadily on our course, south-west by west, and getting more and more out into the Atlantic with each mile of the seething water the Silver Queen spurned with her forefoot and left eddying behind her.
The wind, somehow or other, seemed to get into my head, like a glass of champagne I had on Christmas-day when father and all of us went to Westham Hall and dined with the squire.


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