Then in the rush he swirled, over she went; Her lee-rail dipped, he struck, and something gave; His legs went through a port as the roll spent; She paused, then rolled, and back the water drave. He drifted with it as a part of the wave, Drowning, half-stunned, exhausted, partly frozen, He struck the booby hatchway; then the Bosun Leaped, seeing his chance, before the next sea burst, And caught him as he drifted, seized him, held, Up-ended him against the bitts, and cursed. "This ain't the George's Swimming Baths," he yelled; "Keep on your feet!" Another grey-back felled The two together, and the Bose, half-blind, Spat: "One's a joke," he cursed, "but two's unkind." "Now, damn it, Dauber!" said the Mate. "Look out, Or you'll be over the side!" The water freed; Each clanging freeing-port became a spout. The men cleared up the decks as there was need. The Dauber's head was cut, he felt it bleed Into his oilskins as he clutched and coiled. Water and sky were devils' brews which boiled, Boiled, shrieked, and glowered; but the ship was saved. Snugged safely down, though fourteen sails were split. Out of the dark a fiercer fury raved. The grey-backs died and mounted, each crest lit With a white toppling gleam that hissed from it And slid, or leaped, or ran with whirls of cloud, Mad with inhuman life that shrieked aloud. The watch was called; Dauber might go below. "Splice the main brace!" the Mate called. All laid aft To get a gulp of momentary glow As some reward for having saved the craft. The steward ladled mugs, from which each quaff'd Whisky, with water, sugar, and lime-juice, hot, A quarter of a pint each made the tot. Beside the lamp-room door the steward stood Ladling it out, and each man came in turn, Tipped his sou'-wester, drank it, grunted "Good!" And shambled forward, letting it slowly burn. When all were gone the Dauber lagged astern, Torn by his frozen body's lust for heat, The liquor's pleasant smell, so warm, so sweet, And by a promise long since made at home Never to taste strong liquor. Now he knew The worth of liquor; now he wanted some. His frozen body urged him to the brew; Yet it seemed wrong, an evil thing to do To break that promise. "Dauber," said the Mate, "Drink, and turn in, man; why the hell d'ye wait?" "Please, sir, I'm temperance." "Temperance are you, hey? That's all the more for me! So you're for slops? I thought you'd had enough slops for to-day. Go to your bunk and ease her when she drops. And--damme, steward! you brew with too much hops! Stir up the sugar, man!--and tell your girl How kind the Mate was teaching you to furl."