takes word from all hands not to blow the gaff,[1] an' then gives 'em the whole yarn to the very day, about the Green Hand--for somehow or another I was al'ays a yarning sort of a customer. As soon as they heard it was a love consarn, not a man but swore to keep a stopper on his jaw; only, at findin' out he was a leftenant in the Royal Navy, all hands was for touching hats when they went past. [1] Let out the secret. "Hows'ever, things went on till we'd crossed the line a good while; the leftenant was making his way with the girl at every chance. But, as for the old fellow, I didn't see he was a fathom the nearer with _him_; though, as the naboob had never clapped eyes on him to know him like, 'twan't much matter before heaving in sight o' port. The captain of the Indyman was a rum, old-fashioned codger, all for plain sailing and old ways--I shouldn't say overmuch of a smart seaman. He read the sarvice every Sunday, rigged the church an' all that, if it was anything short of a reef-taups'l breeze. 'Twas queer enough, ye may think, to hear the old boy drawling out, 'As 'twas in the beginning--'then, in the one key, 'Haul aft the mainsheet----' 'is now, and ever shall be----' 'Small pull with the weather brace----' 'Amen----' 'Well the main-yard----' 'The Lord be with you----' 'Taups'l yard well!' As for the first orficer, he was a dandy, know-nothing young blade, as wanted to show off before the ladies; and the second was afraid to call the nose on his face his own, except in his watch; the third was a good seaman, but ye may well fancy the craft stood often a poor chance of being rightly handled.