“Glory!” said one of the other men, with enthusiastic corroboration.
“Seems like the measles,” said the skipper facetiously. “Four of you down with it at one time!”
“It is like the measles, sir,” said the old man impressively, “an’ I only hope as you’ll catch it yourself, bad.”
“Hallelujah!” bawled the other man suddenly. “He’ll catch it.”
“Hold that noise, you, Joe!” shouted the skipper sternly. “How dare you make that noise aboard ship?”
“He’s excited, sir,” said Dick. “It’s love for you in ’is ’eart as does it.”
“Let him keep his love to hisself,” said the skipper churlishly.
“Ah! that’s just what we can’t do,” said Dick in high-pitched tones, which the skipper rightly concluded to be his preaching voice. “We can’t do it—an’ why can’t we do it? Becos we feel good, an’ we want you to feel good too. We want to share it with you. Oh, dear friend—”
“That’s enough,” said the master of the Elizabeth Ann, sharply. “Don’t you go ‘dear friending’ me. Go for’ard! Go for’ard at once!”
With a melancholy shake of his head the old man complied, and the startled skipper turned to the mate, who was at the wheel, and expressed his firm intention of at once stopping such behaviour on his ship.