“It’s the tide drives us up,” said ’Ntoni.
“Draw in there, you son of a pig; your head is so full of those queens of yours that you’ll make us lose the whole day,” shouted Barabbas.
“Sacrament!” replied ’Ntoni, with his oar in the air. “If you say that again I’ll bring it down on your head.”
“What’s all this?” cried Uncle Cola from the helm. “Did you learn when you were a soldier not to hear a word from anybody?”
“I’ll go,” said ’Ntoni.
“Go along, then! With Padron Fortunato’s money he’ll soon find another.”
“Prudence is for the master, patience for the man,” said Padron ’Ntoni.
’Ntoni continued to row, growling all the while, as he could not get up and walk away; and Cousin Mangiacarubbe, to put an end to the quarrelling, said it was time for breakfast.
At that moment the sun was just rising, and a draught of wine was pleasant in the cold air which began to blow. So the boys began to set their jaws at work, with flask between their knees, while the bark moved slowly about inside the ring of corks.
“A kick to whoever speaks first,” said Uncle Cola.