This knotty point being satisfactorily cleared up, the reader proceeded: "And when the south wind blew softly, supposing they had obtained their purpose, loosing thence, they sailed close by Crete."
"Now you see," said the boatswain, "just so sure as you have gentle breezes from the south'ard, you'll have a thundering Levanter at the back of 'em."
"Yes, yes," said a tar, "I know that to my sorrow. I was up the Straits last v'y'ge, 'way up to Smyrna and Zante, arter reasons,[5] and we ketch'd one of these thundering Levanters, and was druv 'way to h—ll, away up the Gulf of Venus (Venice); yes, I've been boxing about the Arch of the Billy Goat[6] 'most too long, not to know a little so'thin' about the weather there."
The reader continued: "But not long after, there arose against it a tempestuous wind."
"There," said Jones, "didn't I tell you so? I knowed you'd have a real sneezer in a varse or two."
"Called Euroclydon," continued the reader, finishing the verse.
"What! avast there! overhaul that last word again."
"A tempestuous wind called Euroclydon," repeated the reader.
"Well, you may call it a Rock-me-down, but I say the regular-built name on't is Levanter; but then I s'pose them thunderin' printers puts in any thing they're a mind to."