That's why I've been so busy getting settled first." "Lord Nelson, I have read, never got over his squeamishness at sea," I said.
"And I've seen father sea-sick on occasion," she answered.

"Yes, and some of the strongest, hardest sailors I have ever known." Mr.Pike here joined us for a moment, ceasing from his everlasting pacing up and down to lean with us on the poop-rail.
Many of the crew were in evidence, pulling on ropes on the main deck below us.

To my inexperienced eye they appeared more unprepossessing than ever.
"A pretty scraggly crew, Mr.Pike," Miss West remarked.
"The worst ever," he growled, "and I've seen some pretty bad ones.

We're teachin' them the ropes just now--most of 'em." "They look starved," I commented.
"They are, they almost always are," Miss West answered, and her eyes roved over them in the same appraising, cattle-buyer's fashion I had marked in Mr.Pike.

"But they'll fatten up with regular hours, no whiskey, and solid food--won't they, Mr.Pike ?" "Oh, sure.