"I will try my best, sir." While bearing in mind the "departure point," however, I must not forget to mention, too, that immediately after Captain Gillespie had taken our bearings off the Lizard, he sang out to Tim Rooney the boatswain to send the hands aft.
"Aye, aye, sorr," responded Tim, at once sounding his shrill whistle and hoarse shout.

"A-all ha-ands aft!" "Now for a bit of speechifying," said Tom Jerrold, who was along with me on the lee-side of the poop, watching the crew as they mustered together on the main-deck underneath.

"The `old man' loves a jaw." But Tom was mistaken; for the captain's speech was laconic in the extreme, being "much shorter, indeed, than his nose," as my fellow mid was forced to acknowledge in a whisper to me! "My men," said he, leaning over the brass rail at the head of the poop, and gazing down into the faces of the rough-and-ready fellows looking up at him expectantly, with all sorts of funny expressions on their countenances, as they wondered what was to come--"we're now at sea and entering on a long voyage together.

I only wish you to do your duty and I will do mine.

If you have anything to complain of at any time, come to me singly and I will right it; but if you come in a body, I'll take no notice of ye.