f which was five years back.

"I don't ask your papers," he went on. "What I ask is, cash payment in
full the first of each month, sixty dollars a month gold--"

"Oodles and oodles of it, gold and gold and better than gold, in cask and
chest, in cask and chest, a fathom under the sand," the Ancient Mariner
assured him in beneficent cackles. "Kings, principalities and
powers!--all of us, the least of us. And plenty more, my gentlemen,
plenty more. The latitude and longitude are mine, and the bearings from
the oak ribs on the shoal to Lion's Head, and the cross-bearings from the
points unnamable, I only know. I only still live of all that brave, mad,
scallywag ship's company . . . "

"Will you sign the articles to that?" the Jew demanded, cutting in on the
ancient's maunderings.

"What port do you wind up the cruise in?" Daughtry asked.

"San Francisco."

"I'll sign the articles that I'm to sign off in San Francisco then."

The Jew, the captain, and the farmer nodded.

"But there's several other things to be agreed upon," Daughtry continued.
"In the first place, I want my six quarts a day. I'm used to it, and I'm
too old a stager to change my habits."

"Of spirits, I suppose?" the Jew asked sarcastically.

"No; of beer, good English beer. It must be understood beforehand, no
matter what long stretches we may be at sea, that a sufficient supply is
taken along."

"Anything else?" the captain queried.

"Yes, sir," Daughtry answered. "I got a dog that must come along."

"Anything else?--a wife or family maybe?" the farmer asked.

"No wife or family, sir. But I got a nigger, a perfectly good nigger,
that's got to come along. He can sign on for ten dollars a month if he
works for the ship all his time. But if he works for me all the time,
I'll let him sign on for two an' a half a month."

"Eighteen days in the longboat," the Ancient Mariner shrilled, to
Daughtry's startlement. "Eighteen days in the longboat, eighteen days of
scorching hell."

"My word," quoth Daughtry, "the old gentleman'd give one the jumps.
There'll sure have to be plenty of beer."

"Sea stewards put on some style, I must say," commented the wheat-farmer,
oblivious to the Ancient Mariner, who still declaimed of the heat of the
longboat.

"Suppose we don't see our way to signing on a steward who travels in such
style?" the Jew asked, mopping the inside of his collar-band with a
coloured silk handkerchief.

"Then you'll never