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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"A Tale Of The Forecastle"

.. tried to scramble up into the upper berth.... Rats... a rat
bit my finger as I got up.... I could hear him swimming below me.... I
thought you would never come... I thought you were all gone overboard...
of course... Could hear nothing but the wind.... Then you came... to
look for the corpse, I suppose. A little more and..."
"Man! But ye made a rare lot of noise in here," observed Archie,
thoughtfully.
"You chaps kicked up such a confounded row above.... Enough to scare
any one.... I didn't know what you were up to.... Bash in the blamed
planks... my head.... Just what a silly, scary gang of fools would
do.... Not much good to me anyhow.... Just as well... drown.... Pah."
He groaned, snapped his big white teeth, and gazed with scorn. Belfast
lifted a pair of dolorous eyes, with a broken-hearted smile, clenched
his fists stealthily; blue-eyed Archie caressed his red whiskers with
a hesitating hand; the boatswain at the door stared a moment, and
brusquely went away with a loud guffaw. Wamibo dreamed.... Donkin
felt all over his sterile chin for the few rare hairs, and said,
triumphantly, with a sidelong glance at Jimmy:--"Look at 'im! Wish I
was 'arf has 'ealthy as 'ee is--I do.


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