DI Ch 6: Shipmates
Shipmates, hale and poorly, men and women, Chinese scholars and grumbling stewards.
'Heave the log, and send me up a pea-jacket, my flask, and a bite.'
'Oh, please, sir, please may I take it up?' whispered Forshaw.
'Silence,' cried Babbington, cracking him on the head with his speaking-trumpet. 'Seven knots and three fathoms, sir.' And then, 'Mr Forshaw, jump to the cabin, tell Killick pea-jacket, flask and bite, and run up to the crosstrees without taking breath, d'ye hear me?'
'Heave the log, and send me up a pea-jacket, my flask, and a bite.'
'Oh, please, sir, please may I take it up?' whispered Forshaw.
'Silence,' cried Babbington, cracking him on the head with his speaking-trumpet. 'Seven knots and three fathoms, sir.' And then, 'Mr Forshaw, jump to the cabin, tell Killick pea-jacket, flask and bite, and run up to the crosstrees without taking breath, d'ye hear me?'