I swallowed about five blows.

But what's the difference?
They didn't kill me.

Well, thank God for it!" "Certainly." "To the stern, devils, to the stern, I'm telling you!" roared the perspiring man in a ferocious voice at two carriers who were rolling a barrel of fish along the deck.
"What are you yelling for ?" Foma turned to him sternly, as he had started at the shout.
"Is that any of your business ?" asked the perspiring man, casting a glance at Foma.
"It is my business! The people are working and your fat is melting away.
So you think you must yell at them ?" said Foma, threateningly, moving closer toward him.
"You--you had better keep your temper." The perspiring man suddenly rushed away from his place and went into his office.

Foma looked after him and also went away from the wharf; filled with a desire to abuse some one, to do something, just to divert his thoughts from himself at least for a short while.

But his thoughts took a firmer hold on him.
"That sailor there, he tore himself away, and he's safe and sound! Yes, while I--" In the evening he again went up to the Mayakins.