His face was stolid and ox-like, and as he shuffled and dragged his brogans over the deck he paused every several steps to place both hands on his abdomen and execute a queer, pressing, lifting movement.

Months were to pass, in which I saw him do this thousands of times, ere I learned that there was nothing the matter with him and that his action was purely a habit.

His face reminded me of the Man with the Hoe, save that it was unthinkably and abysmally stupider.
And his name, as I was to learn, of all names was Sundry Buyers.

And he was bosun of the fine American sailing-ship _Elsinore_--rated one of the finest sailing-ships afloat! Of this group of aged men and boys that moved the luggage along I saw only one, called Henry, a youth of sixteen, who approximated in the slightest what I had conceived all sailors to be like.

He had come off a training ship, the mate told me, and this was his first voyage to sea.
His face was keen-cut, alert, as were his bodily movements, and he wore sailor-appearing clothes with sailor-seeming grace.