- "Here comes his fore-top-gallant sail in!"- We are wide
awake, and know all that's going on as well as if we were on deck.- A
well-known voice is heard from the mast-head singing out the officer
of the watch to haul taught the weather brace.- "Hallo! There's S---
aloft to furl the sail!"- Next thing, rigging is heaved down directly
over our heads, and a long-drawn cry and a rattling of hanks announce
that the flying-jib has come in.- The second mate holds on to the main
top-gallant sail until a heavy sea is shipped, and washes over the
forecastle as though the whole ocean had come aboard; when a noise
further aft shows that that sail, too, is taking in. After this, the
ship is more easy for a time; two bells are struck, and we try to get
a little sleep. By-and-by,-bang, bang, bang, on the scuttle- "All
ha-a-ands, a ho-o-y!"- We spring out of our berths, clap on a
monkey-jacket and south-wester, and tumble up the ladder.- Mate up
before us, and on the forecastle, singing out like a roaring bull;
the captain singing out on the quarter-deck, and the second mate
yelling, like a hyena, in the waist.
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