--"Get out of my road, Dutchy," said the victim of Yankee
brutality. The Finn did not move--did not hear. "Get out, blast ye,"
shouted the other, shoving him aside with his elbow. "Get out, you
blanked deaf and dumb fool. Get out." The man staggered, recovered
himself, and gazed at the speaker in silence.--"Those damned furriners
should be kept under," opined the amiable Donkin to the forecastle. "If
you don't teach 'em their place they put on you like anythink." He
flung all his worldly possessions into the empty bed-place, gauged with
another shrewd look the risks of the proceeding, then leaped up to the
Finn, who stood pensive and dull.--"I'll teach you to swell around," he
yelled. "I'll plug your eyes for you, you blooming square-head." Most of
the men were now in their bunks and the two had the forecastle clear to
themselves. The development of the destitute Donkin aroused interest. He
danced all in tatters before the amazed Finn, squaring from a distance
at the heavy, unmoved face. One or two men cried encouragingly: "Go it,
Whitechapel!" settling themselves luxuriously in their beds to survey
the fight. Others shouted: "Shut yer row!.
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