'I'd be friends with all my men for one thing,' said Geordie, 'and I'd not have a single Dutchman in a ship of mine.'
The three 'Dutchmen' on board—one of whom was a Swede, another a German, and the third a Finn—shifted uneasily on their chests, but said nothing.
'And not a Dago,' continued the 'owner,' 'and I'd give double wages, and grog three times a day, and tobacco throwed in. And the cook shouldn't be a hash-spoiler but what Frenchies calls a chef.'
'We never heard of that. How d'ye spell it, Geordie?'
'S, h, e, double f,' said Geordie; 'and it means a man that is known not to spoil vittles, as most sea-cooks does, by the very look of him. And when it was wet or cold the galley fire should be alight all night. And the skipper and the mates should be told by me, and told very stern, that if they vallied their billets a continental they'd behave like gents and not cuss too much. And there shouldn't be no working up, and any officer of mine that was dead on dry pulls on the halliards should have the sack quick. And every time a ship of mine came into dock I'd be there, and I'd see what the crowds' opinion was of the skipper and the mates. Oh, I'd make my ships a paradise, I would!'
Most of the men nodded approval, but Braby wasn't quite satisfied.
'And would there be grog every time of shortenin' sail, Geordie?'
'Oh, of course,' said George, 'and every time you made sail too.'
But an old seaman shook his head.
''Tis mighty fine, mates, to 'ear Geordie guff as to what 'e'd do,' he growled, 'but I ain't young, and I've seed men get rich and they wasn't in the least what they allowed they'd be. Geordie 'ere is one of hus now, and 'e feels where the shoe pinches, but if so be 'e got rotten with money 'e'd be for callin' sailormen swine as like as not. And 'e'd wear a topper.'