"Pete, what happened to your nose?"
"It is a long yarn," said he, "and some night in the tropics I shall spin it."
It was now breaking day. The cook was coming forward to the galley, singing "Shall we always work for wages?" Behind him strolled Toby, the big black cat, who seemed very much in command of the ship. Seven bells, and breakfast, some of the same beefsteak, with the elasticity of a sling-shot, and other trimmings.
The Captain seemed more talkative. "I understand that we are bound for Suva, Fiji Islands," said I.
"Yes, and I expect to make it in about fifty days, for with this breeze and a smooth sea, we shall be with the flying-fish before long."
"That will be very convenient for me, Sir."
("No, no more coffee, thank you, Steward.")
("Steward" is more appropriate than "Cook," and gives him a dignity befitting his position in the presence of officers, while forward he is pleased to be called "Doctor." But that title is seldom used, as it depends upon the good-nature of the crew.)
"Warm sailing will indeed be convenient for you," said the Captain. "How did you lose your clothes? Shipwrecked? Here, Steward, take away this Bourbon brand," (handing him the condensed milk). "I see the flies have found it."
"No, sir, not shipwrecked. My last trip, from Guaymas, was full of incidents, especially in the Gulf of California. It took us six days, with light, baffling winds and thunder-storms, to make Cape St. Lucas. While we were rounding the Cape, lightning struck the mizzen-top, destroying the mutton-leg spanker and setting fire to the chafing gear. Luckily for us, the sails were damp. As it was the lightning ran forward on the tryatic stay, and broke our forestay at the night-head."—