“Ye-e-e-e-e-e-s,” was the reply, ending in a long snore.
“Get up! Hi, hi, hi!”
“In—a—mi—i—i—n’t.”
“Hallo! Up! Get up! The schooner’s off!”
“Hey?”
“The schooner’s off!”
“Hm-m-m—”
“Here! No sleeping! Get up! You shan’t sleep any more! Get up!” and amid loud cries and yells the recumbent form was shaken from head to foot. The mate gaped, and yawned, and blinked, and opened his eyes with a glassy, dreamy stare, dazzled by a candle-light, which flickered in his face, and confused by the uproar. He was like a bat suddenly plunging into a lighted parlor full of noisy children—out of the midst of a dark night. Only he wasn’t quite so much awake as a bat might be.
“My—name’s—Wade,” he ejaculated at last, in a slow and solemn tone.
“Hi, hi, hi! Yah, yah, yah! Hi, yah! h-o-o-o-o! Get up!”’