Ropes were lying about as if there was no such thing as order on board a ship.
Forward there was a pile of rusty chain, and if the new-comer stirred a step he was sure to be in somebody's way; and when, in response to a hoarse "by yer leave," he moved somewhere else, it was to find himself in a worse position still.
Bruff quite shared his feelings, and showed it by shivering from time to time, and, after getting behind Mark, trying to drive his head between his master's legs, an attempt that was always met by a rebuff, for Mark had not yet gained his sea-legs and taken to walking with his feet very wide apart.
But all the same there was a deal to notice, and by degrees the lad grew interested as he wondered how it was possible for the yawning hatch in the middle of the deck to swallow up such an endless number of crates and boxes, bales and packages, of all kinds.

While what seemed more astonishing was the fact, that as fast as the cargo disappeared more was brought aboard from the quay, where it was unloaded from vans and carts.
"Here, hi! young Strong!" cried the mate suddenly.

"Come here." Mark walked up to him hastily as he stood near the gangway, talking to a custom-house officer.
"Oh, there you are! Look here, which is it--wasp or bee!" "Wasp or bee, sir--which ?" The customs-officer laughed, and Mark coloured up, but Mr Gregory stood with his red nose shining and his pimply face as hard and cold as a statue's.
"Which?
Why, you--come aboard to idle or work ?" "I don't know, sir.

Can I do anything ?" "How should I know?
I should say not, by the look of you.

Will you try ?" "Yes, sir.