"Starboard, Tom, starboard!"—"Aye, aye-starboard it is!"
"Starboard, Tom, starboard!"—"Aye, aye-starboard it is!"
I FOUND myself quite in a strange land upon parting with my master and his friends. It was war-time, and the place was literally swarming with jack-tars.
Taking to the road, for the footway was quite crowded, I soon reached Poplar. Here a large mob impeded my progress. They appeared all moved with extraordinary merriment. I soon distinguished the objects of their mirth. Two sailors, mounted back to back on a cart-horse, were steering for Blackwall. A large horse-cloth served them as a substitute for a saddle, and the merry fellow behind held the reins; he was smoking a short pipe, while his mate was making an observation with his spy-glass.
"Starboard, Tom, starboard!" cried the one in front.
"Aye, aye-starboard it is!" replied his companion, tugging at the rein.
"Holloo, messmate! where are you bound?" bawled a sailor in the crowd.
"To the port o' Blackwall," replied the steersman. "But we're going quite in the wind's eye, and I'm afeared we shan't make it to-night."