"I'm comin' to the moral o' things.

That's jest abaout what aour Harve be! Ha'af on the taown, an' t'other ha'af blame fool; an' there's some'll believe he's a rich man.

Yah!" "Did ye ever think how sweet 'twould be to sail wid a full crew o' Salterses ?" said Long Jack.

"Ha'af in the furrer an' other ha'af in the muck-heap, as Ca'houn did not say, an' makes out he's a fisherman!" A little laugh went round at Salters's expense.
Disko held his tongue, and wrought over the log-book that he kept in a hatchet-faced, square hand; this was the kind of thing that ran on, page after soiled page: "July 17.

This day thick fog and few fish.