After supper, two of us took the captain on board the Lagoda. As
he came alongside, he gave his name, and the mate, in the gangway,
called out to the captain down the companion-way- "Captain T--- has
come aboard, sir!" "Has he brought his brig with him?" said the
rough old fellow, in a tone which made itself heard fore and aft. This
mortified our captain a little, and it became a standing joke among us
for the rest of the voyage. The captain went down into the cabin,
and we walked forward and put our heads down the forecastle, where
we found the men at supper. "Come down, shipmates! Come down!" said
they, as soon as they saw us; and we went down, and found a large,
high forecastle, well lighted; and a crew of twelve or fourteen men,
eating out of their kids and pans, and drinking their tea, and talking
and laughing, all as independent and easy as so many "wood-sawyer's
clerks." This looked like comfort and enjoyment, compared with the
dark little forecastle, and scanty, discontented crew of the brig.
It was Saturday night; they had got through with their work for the
week; and being snugly moored, had nothing to do until Monday,
again.
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