"Next door to one," said the solicitor, who was sewing a patch on his trousers, as he looked up approvingly.
"You might call 'im a sailor, if you liked," said another seaman, "but that wouldn't make him one. All I can say is I never 'ad enough time or money to get in the state you was both in when you come aboard."
If the forecastle was incredulous, the cabin was worse. The officers at first took but little notice of them, but feeling their torn and tattered appearance was against them, they put on so many airs and graces to counteract this that flesh and blood could not endure it quietly. The cook would allude to his friend as Mr. Thomson, while the A. B. would persist in referring, with a most affected utterance, to Dr. Carson.
"Cook!" bawled the skipper one day when they were about a week out.
Dr. Carson, who was peeling potatoes, stepped slowly out of the galley and went toward him.
"You say 'Sir,' when you're spoken to," said the skipper, fiercely.
The doctor sneered.
"My — if you sneer at me, I'll knock your head off!" said the other, with a wicked look.
"When you get back to Melbourne," said the doctor, quietly, "you'll hear more of this."
"You're a couple of pickpockets aping the gentleman," said the skipper, and he turned to the mate. "Mr. Mackenzie, what do these two ragamuffins look like?"