The Stout Lady (to the Captain who is steering). Shall we be out long, Captain?
The Captain. I hope not, Marm, because I'm dining at the tabbly dote at the Cliftonville this evenin', and I've got to be home in time to dress.
[The passengers regard him with increased respect.
The Mate (familiarly to the Captain). Yes, dear; you don't want to die in here, do you? (explanatorily) "die in"—dine—you'll excuse me, but the ocean always makes me feel so facetious. Captain, dear, if you'll pardon a common sailor like myself for making the suggestion, I beg to call upon you for a song. (The Captain obligingly bellows "The Stormy Nore—The Jolly old Nore," to the general satisfaction). Ah, they didn't know what a canary-bird you were, Captain! Here's a lady asking you to drink at her expense.
[The Captain is prevailed upon to accept a tumbler of "the usual;" the Stout Lady says "Captin, your 'elth!" and pledges him in a whiskey-and-soda.
First Female Friend (to Second Do. Do.). That's Mrs. EDLING, all over, puttin' herself so forward! Look at her now, 'anding him up two cigars in a paper-bag. I call it sickenin'!
Second Do. Do. I'm not surprised. She's a woman that 'ud do anythink for notoriety. I've always noticed that in her.
Captain (to Mate). Ease the brails!
Mate (frivolously, after obeying). They're feeling better now, darlin'! If no one else'll sing a song, I'll give you "The Midshipmite."
The Stout Lady. I do like the way those two go on together; it's as good as a play. I shall begin laughin' presently; it takes a deal to set me off, but when I once am off, I can't stop myself. (The Mate sings.) A sweet singer he is, too. Lor! it's like goin' for a sail in a Music-'All!