There was a laugh among the crew, and at a word from the mate they would have been ready to pitch the miserable object overboard.
“What is your name?” said the captain.
“Jimpny, sir. David Jimpny.”
“Pretty name for a Christian man,” said the mate; and the crew all laughed.
“What have you been?” said the captain.
“Anything, sir. No trade. Been out o’ work, sir, and half starved and faint.”
“Out of work!” roared the mate. “Why, you wouldn’t work if you had it.”
“Wouldn’t I! You give me the chance, sir.”
“Chance!” retorted the mate scornfully.
“Perhaps the poor wretch has not had one,” said the captain. “Look here, my man.”