'I was spliced three weeks ago,' exclaimed a red-headed seaman. 'I'm a-missing of Sally, my joys. I feel gallus like going home again.'
He eyed the land about the West India Docks, and extended his arms, amidst a rumble of laughter and much spitting of yellow froth over the bows.
'I don't expect to see my old 'oman again,' exclaimed a seaman, standing upright with his arms folded. 'If she don't die, she'll make tracks, and, foreseeing of that, I sold off my household furniture yesterday.'
'Ain't ye left her nothing to sit upon?' said the red-headed seaman.
'Yes; a carpenter's knee. D'ye think I'm to be hubbled?' he cried, letting fall his arms, and turning fiercely upon the red-headed man. 'I wondered to find her at home last voyage. She'd have found me a true man. Bruised if I like ship's carpenters, anyhow. I never yet knew a ship's carpenter yer could trust as a man.'
'Stow that!' exclaimed a seaman, leaning over the rail, and merely turning his head to speak.
'You're no ship's carpenter,' was the answer. 'This ain't no ship. Present company's always excepted, too, in polite society;' and he began to step the deck with temper.
'Where's this vessel bound to?' said another man.
'I signed for a cruise,' answered someone.
'Something was said about the Equator,' exclaimed another.