'Because he doesn't like any but Englishmen,' said Connie Ryder.
'And Scotch, of course,' she added, as she saw M'Gill's jaw fall a little. 'I've been trying to get Captain Watchett to give us another day.'
'All our ship and cargo to a paper bag of beans, he didn't,' said Semple.
'I—I hate him,' cried Connie Ryder, as she entered the cabin.
'She's as keen as mustard, as red pepper,' said Semple. 'If she'd been a man she'd have made a seaman.'
'I've never sailed wi' a skeeper's wife before,' said M'Gill, who had shipped in the Star of the South a week before, in place of the second mate, who had been given his discharge for drunkenness; 'is she at all interferin', Mr. Semple?'
Old Semple nodded.
'She interferes some, and it would be an obstinate cook that disputed with her. She made a revolution in the galley, my word, when she first came on board. Some would say she cockered the crew over much, but I was long enough in the fo'c'sle not to forget that even a hog of a man don't do best on hog-wash,' which was a marvellous concession on the part of any of the afterguard of any ship, seeing how the notion persists among owners, and even among officers, that the worse men are treated the better they work.
'She seems a comfortable ship,' owned M'Gill.
And so every one on board of her allowed.