Blair blushed for the honor of his country, to find such men among her avowed defenders.

Oaths and obscenity made even more hateful the rough narratives in which each strove to prove himself more hardened and abandoned than the last speaker.

Blair's soul recoiled with horror from the taint of such companionship; yet for him there was no escape.
Among these coarse rovers he was forced to eat and sleep, to live and labor, while many weeks went by.
The youngest on board, he was at the beck and call of these rough men, who made his body as weary of doing their bidding as his soul of their words of wickedness.

A deep, hearty hatred of the crew of the Molly took possession of Blair Robertson.

He wondered that a benevolent Providence should have placed a Christian boy in the midst of the pollution of such associates, and subject to the martyrdom of hearing their daily talk.