"Up you go," said Benson.
"I won't," said Smith.
"Won't you?" asked Benson. "We'll see about that. Hook on there, Billings."
And the next moment Smith was jammed in a running bowline round his waist.
"Sway him up," said Benson; and the crew of the Harvester hoisted the notorious robber with about the only feelings of pleasure they were likely to know till they reached New York. And the Triumphants pushed off as they heard the mate address Mr. Smith in language which did his reputation and the reputation of the ship most ample justice.
"There's talk and there's a fore-topsail-yard-ahoy voice for you," said Benson. "Oh, Mr. Smith will be looked after, he will. Now, chaps, pull for it, or the admiral will be waitin', and if that 'appens, 'twill be 'Stand from under.'"
THE POLICY OF THE POTLUCK.
Concerning the permanent and immutable characteristics of ships, the unhappy man who has never had his limited range of vision broadened by a trip in a sailing ship must of necessity know little. He probably falls into the fallacy, common even among those who follow the sea, that a partial or entire clearance of her "crowd" will quite alter her nature; whereas sailors being sailors—that is, people of certain fairly definite attributes—any given environment makes them much the same as those who preceded them.
But entire changes in the personnel of a vessel rarely take place. The officers change, but the crew remains: the crew goes, but officers stay. Or more frequently some few men are favourites of one or two of the officers, and they mingle with the new crew like yeast, till the ancient fermentation is visible once more.