And these were bosuns!--bosuns of the fine American sailing-ship _Elsinore_! Never had any illusion of mine taken a more distressing cropper.
It was plain to me that the pair of them, spineless and spunkless, were afraid of the men they were supposed to boss.

And the men! Dore could never have conjured a more delectable hell's broth.

For the first time I saw them all, and I could not blame the two bosuns for being afraid of them.

They did not walk.

They slouched and shambled, some even tottered, as from weakness or drink.
But it was their faces.