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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"The Day's Work - Volume 1"

For all that, Bell was right: we'd along tow before
us, an' though Providence had helped us that far, there was no
sense in leavin' too much to its keepin'. When the second hawser
was fast, I was wet wi' sweat, an' I cried Bell to tak' up his
slack an' go home. The other man was by way o' helpin' the work wi'
askin' for drinks, but I e'en told him he must hand reef an' steer,
beginnin' with steerin', for I was goin' to turn in. He steered -
oh, ay, he steered, in a manner o' speakin'. At the least, he
grippit the spokes an' twiddled 'em an' looked wise, but I doubt if
the Hoor ever felt it. I turned in there an' then, to young
Bannister's bunk, an' slept past expression. I waukened ragin' wi'
hunger, a fair lump o' sea runnin', the Kite snorin' awa' four knots
an hour; an' the Grotkau slappin' her nose under, an' yawin' an'
standin' over at discretion. She was a most disgracefu' tow. But
the shameful thing of all was the food. I raxed me a meal fra
galley-shelves an' pantries an' lazareetes an' cubby-holes that I
would not ha' gied to the mate of a Cardiff collier; an' ye ken we
say a Cardiff mate will eat clinkers to save waste. I'm sayin' it
was simply vile! The crew had written what they thought of it on
the new paint o' the fo'c'sle, but I had not a decent soul wi' me
to complain on.


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