Jimmy went down one
day while Bill was at the wheel to look for 'is knife, wot 'e thought
'e'd left down there, and 'ed 'ardly got down afore Bill saw 'im come up
ag'in, 'olding on to the top of a mop which the steward was using.
We couldn't figure it out nohow, and to think o' the second mate, a
little man with a large fam'ly, who never 'ad a penny in 'is pocket,
sleeping every night on a six 'undered pound mattress, sent us pretty
near crazy. We used to talk it over whenever we got a chance, and Bill
and Jimmy could scarcely be civil to each other. The boy said it was
Bill's fault, and 'e said it was the boy's.
"The on'y thing I can see," says the boy, one day, "is for Bill to 'ave a
touch of sunstroke as 'e's leaving the wheel one day, tumble 'ead-first
down the companion-way, and injure 'isself so severely that 'e can't be
moved. Then they'll put 'im in a cabin down aft, and p'raps I'll 'ave to
go and nurse 'im. Anyway, he'll be down there."
"It's a very good idea, Bill," I says.
"Ho," says Bill, looking at me as if 'e would eat me.
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