We thought
the boatswain a brute, and, practically, told him so. Only Mr. Baker's
delicate tact prevented an all-fired row: he refused to take us
seriously. He came bustling forward, and called us many unpolite names
but in such a hearty and seamanlike manner that we began to feel ashamed
of ourselves. In truth, we thought him much too good a sailor to annoy
him willingly: and after all Jimmy might have been a fraud--probably
was! The forecastle got a clean up that morning; but in the afternoon
a sick-bay was fitted up in the deck-house. It was a nice little
cabin opening on deck, and with two berths. Jimmy's belongings were
transported there, and then--notwithstanding his protests--Jimmy
himself. He said he couldn't walk. Four men carried him on a blanket. He
complained that he would have to die there alone, like a dog. We grieved
for him, and were delighted to have him removed from the forecastle. We
attended him as before. The galley was next door, and the cook looked in
many times a day. Wait became a little more cheerful. Knowles affirmed
having heard him laugh to himself in peals one day. Others had seen him
walking about on deck at night.
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