"Yep. Ye see, the Jamaiky people is so werry Henglish that they prefers misfit clothes to any others, so them kind is allus sent there by the mother country, an' so the colony are kep' in a contented state o' mind. Waal, fur two weeks the _Ham Bone_ didn't git along much faster'n that there yaller bark out yonder. The wind blowed mos'ly up an' down the mast, an' we wuz a-wallerin' along with all our light canvas set, an' not makin' more'n fifty to sixty mile a day. Howsumever, that were better'n wot were a-cookin' fur us. One mornin' it were jess like it are now, an' Cap'n Peleg Mahoney, w'ich the same he were a Frenchman, sez he to me, sez he, 'Eet vill be some sqvalls soon, yes, eh?' An' I sez to he, sez I, 'Oui, mownseer; you're dead right.' So he orders us to clew up an' furl the royals, an' ginerally to git ready for misbehavior o' the elements. Waal, sure 'nuff, 'bout six bells in the forenoon watch it got blacker'n a coal-bunker in the nor'west, an' afore seven bells down it came a-squealin' like ten thousand guinea-pigs struck by lightnin'. We wuz under nothin' but torps'ls, but we heeled over till the water were waist-deep along the lee rail. Then we righted, an' commenced fur to go ahead at a tearin' speed, an' off to leeward like a horseshoe crab. Waal, it jess blowed one squall arter another till four o'clock in the arternoon, an' then it fell flat calm, with a great big greasy swell a-runnin' out o' the no'theast, an' the byrometer indulgin' in disgraceful low conduck. Sez Cap'n Peleg Mahoney to Willum Smitzer, sez he, 'Eet vill be a bad gale, yes, eh?' An' Willum Smitzer, sez he to he, sez he, me a-hearin' of him, 'Ja woll,' w'ich are good Dutch fur 'Betcher life.' An' both on 'em was a-tellin' the truth.