"And I don't think anyone aboard will be sorry when she's in smooth water."
"Especially the Duke. For my part, I don't like even looking on, and I'd like it still less, but I know she's fit for it, and only plays with it. Fancy how an old collier would behave in a gale like that! It's very well the sea is no worse, or it might poop her."
"Poop her with that way on! You are a freshwater sailor, you are!"
"But suppose she made a stem board?"
"Or flew over the moon!"
"But if she carried away her mainsail she'd pay off, and then she might be pooped."
"If the sky fell, we'd catch larks. Get along with you, for a mud-pilot!"
"I daresay they're all on deck."
"Every soul of them. Why, who could stay below in a gale like that? Everything in her is jumping about like dice in a dice-box."
"They haven't a plate or a cup or a saucer left whole, I'll warrant."