The boys began to rally to a focus along the starboard-waist, as they saw the cooper coming forward.
"Cooper," said I, "where's your fiddle to-night? Are you going to fetch her up?"
"No, guess not to-night. Plenty of work for all of us to-morrow without shaking a leg over night."
"Yes, plenty of work and no grog," growled Burley. "That's the worst of these temperance ships. They expect a man to work like a dog, and give him nothing to warm his heart. If men stood up for their rights, they'd have it. A man's entitled to two glasses a day, anyhow."
"Not without he ships for it," said Jeff.
"Yes, I say he is," said the sea-lawyer.
"How's that?"
"Why, by the natural rights of man."
"What the plague do you call the natural rights of man?" said the cooper, among whose crooked traits intemperance was not included. "I don't want to see grog served out in any ship where I am."