At the end of the boys' watch they heard the crack-crack-crack of a huge muzzle-loading revolver aboard her.
"Glory, glory, hallelujah!" sung Dan.

"Here she comes, dad; butt-end first, walkin' in her sleep same's she done on 'Queereau." Had she been any other boat Disko would have taken his chances, but now he cut the cable as the Carrie Pitman, with all the North Atlantic to play in, lurched down directly upon them.

The "We're Here", under jib and riding-sail, gave her no more room than was absolutely necessary,--Disko did not wish to spend a week hunting for his cable,--but scuttled up into the wind as the Carrie passed within easy hail, a silent and angry boat, at the mercy of a raking broadside of Bank chaff.
"Good evenin'," said Disko, raising his headgear, "an' haow does your garden grow ?" "Go to Ohio an' hire a mule," said Uncle Salters.

"We don't want no farmers here." "Will I lend you my dory-anchor ?" cried Long Jack.
"Unship your rudder an' stick it in the mud," said Tom Platt.
"Say!" Dan's voice rose shrill and high, as he stood on the wheel-box.
"Sa-ay! Is there a strike in the o-ver-all factory; or hev they hired girls, ye Shackamaxons ?" "Veer out the tiller-lines," cried Harvey, "and nail 'em to the bottom." That was a salt-flavoured jest he had been put up to by Tom Platt.

Manuel leaned over the stern and yelled; "Johnna Morgan play the organ! Ahaaaa!" He flourished his broad thumb with a gesture of unspeakable contempt and derision, while little Penn covered himself with glory by piping up: "Gee a little! Hssh! Come here.