Clancy snapped the pipe out of his mouth and hove it over the rail. Then he went for the forec’s’le gangway. In two jumps he was there.
“Up, you loafers––on deck and make sail. ‘To 174 the east’ard,’ says the skipper, and over the shoals we’ll put her to-night.”
“Home! Home––good enough––and hurroo!” we could hear from below.
The skipper said nothing more––only all night long he walked the quarter.
Next day when we were almost abreast of Cape Cod Clancy began to instruct me. “Here’s a tip for any girl friends you got, Joe. See the skipper last night? Tell them if they’re after a man––a real man––even if he’s a bit shy––tell them––” Oh, the advice that Clancy could give!
About the time that we left Cape Cod light astern and squared away for Thatcher’s––with Gloucester Harbor almost in sight––with the rocks of Eastern Point dead ahead––Clancy began to sing again:
“Oh, a deep blue sky and a deep blue sea
And a blue-eyed girl awaiting me––
Too-roo-roo and a too-roo-ree––
Who wouldn’t a Gloucester seiner be?