"That is a word I am not much acquainted with, but we have an awkward berth of it here, if that be what you mean!"
A long pause, during which these two seamen, one of whom was old, the other young, paced the deck diligently.
"Mr. Leach!"
"Captain Truck!"
"Do you ever pray?"
"I have done such a thing in my time, sir; but, since I have sailed with you, I have been taught to work first and pray afterwards; and when the difficulty has been gotten over by the work, the prayers have commonly seemed surplusage."
"You should take to, your thanksgivings. I think your grandfather was a parson Leach."
"Yes, he was, sir, and I have been told your father followed the same trade."
"You have been told the truth, Mr. Leach. My father was as meek, and pious, and humble a Christian as ever thumped a pulpit. A poor man, and, if truth must be spoken, a poor preacher too; but a zealous one, and thoroughly devout. I ran away from him at twelve, and never passed a week at a time under his roof afterwards. He could not do much for me, for he had little education and no money, and, I believe, carried on the business pretty much by faith. He was a good man, Leach, notwithstanding there might be a little of a take-in for such a person to set up as a teacher; and, as for my mother, if there ever was a pure spirit on earth it was in her body!"
"Ay, that is the way commonly with the mothers, sir."