“’Tis accordin’,” said Tumm.
“To what?” I asked.
“T’ how you looks at it. In a mess, now—you take it in a nasty mess, when ’tis every man for hisself an’ the devil take the hindmost—in a mess like that, I ’low, the devil often gets the man o’ the party, an’ the swine goes free. But ’tis all just accordin’ t’ how you looks at it; an’ as for my taste, I’d be ashamed t’ come through fifty year o’ life on this coast alive.”
“Ay, b’y?” the skipper inquired, with a curl of the lip.
“It wouldn’t look right,” drawled Tumm.
The skipper laughed good-naturedly.
“Now,” said Tumm, “you take the case o’ old man Jowl o’ Mad Tom’s Harbor—”
“Excuse me, Tumm b’y,” the skipper interrupted. “If you’re goin’ t’ crack off, just bide a spell till I gets on deck.”
Presently we heard his footsteps going aft....