"W'ich the same it'd be a colligion," said the Old Sailor, "an' mebbe it would be like the colligion o' the Lord Kindlin'wood an' the Orange Mary, an' mebbe it wouldn't, 'cos w'y, I don't reckon there ever were no sich colligion afore, an' I don't reckon as how there ever will be agin."
"Will you please tell us about it?" asked Henry.
"In course I will, my son. W'enever I recomembers one o' them picooliar misfortins wot has happened to me at sea, I allus tells ye about it, don't I?"
The Old Sailor fixed his eyes on the two steamers, which were now passing each other very closely, and shook his head.
"It are all werry putty in clear an' calm weather," he said; "but it ain't no good wotever in weather wot are dirty. Waal may I never live to see a ship's cook at the fore-sheet ag'in ef it weren't jess like I'm agoin' fur to tell ye. I were in Liverpool an' didn't have no berth at all, so I were more'n half tickled to death w'en I met old Jonas Pettigrew, the shippin' agent, an' he sez to me, sez he, 'They 'ain't got no mate on the Lord Kindlin'wood yet.' I'd heerd about her. She were bound fur Calcutta an' Hong-kong by way o' the Suez Canal, an' her Cap'n were a Frenchman, 'cos she'd jess been bought by a French company in Canton. So I went down to the dock where she were a-takin' in her cargo, an' I sez to the Cap'n, sez I, 'Here are a mate fur ye.' His name were Zhan Four—anyhow, that's as near as I can come to wot he called hisself. 'Ala bonner,' sez he to me, sez he, w'ich the same it are French fur 'Bully fur you.' We soon come to tarms, an' I turned to.
"Waal, we didn't have no incidents or accidents o' no kind at all on the run down to Alexandry. Then the wind come in from the south'ard an' east'ard an' blowed putty nigh straight up the sea. I don't remember any nastier sea than it kicked up. The Lord Kindlin'wood would stand straight up on her starn-post, an' then take a pitch forrad and go clean into it up to her foremast. We had double lookouts up in the crow-nest, an' they was under water so much o' the time that they hollered fur divin'-suits.
"Waal, it blowed an' it blowed an' it blowed. It blowed so hard on the second day that it cut the tops right off'n the seas, an' sent 'em flyin' along like buckets o' rain, an' blow me fur pickled oysters ef ye could stand with your face up to wind'ard.
"Howsumever, we got used to it arter a while, an' the cook took to singin', so we knowed we was all right. But along about the middle o' the fust dog-watch one o' the lookouts yelled, 'Steamer ho!' I jumped into the fore-riggin' an' seed the wessel dead ahead o' us. She were a steamer about our own size, bound to the north'ard. She were runnin' at full speed ahead o' the gale, an' were drivin' along like the werry tops o' them seas wot I told ye about. Only she were actin' a little different from the Lord Kindlin'wood, 'cos w'y, she were a runnin' with the seas. So w'en one o' them would roll in under her starn she would h'ist her taffrail up into the air, an' plough forrad with her head down for all the world like a mad bull. Then the sea would underrun her an' git under her bow, an' she'd sit up on her starn-post with her bow p'inted away up in the air, an' like the werry tops o' them seas wot I told ye about. That were all right, but wot discomforted me w'en I saw her were that she were a-headin' right dead on end at us. Now we didn't dare fur to shift the Lord Kindlin'wood's helm an inch. We had to keep her head to the seas, 'cos w'y, it were the only way she'd lay to an' behave herself. The other wessel I sort o' reckoned, bein' about our size, would be in danger o' broachin' to ef she shifted her helm. So I were somewhat anxious 'bout how the two on 'em was agoin' fur to git past each other. I sent a man aft to call the Cap'n, an' he came on the bridge an' danced a reg'lar jig. 'Ef she turn not away she will make to the bow a bump!'
"'Wot is the orders, Cap'n?' sez I to he, sez I.