And they left me there, by God--
Damn your eyes!"

"Kilrain, come here and make it fast or I'll damn your eyes!"

He explained to Bard: "Got to be hard with these fellers or you never
get nowhere with 'em."

"Yo ho!" answered the voice of the singer, and approached booming:

"The parson he did come, he did come;
The parson he did come--did come.
The parson he did come,
He looked almighty glum,
He talked of kingdom come--.
Damn your eyes!"

Shorty loomed in the doorway and caught his hand to his forehead in a
nautical salute. He had one bad eye, and now it squinted as villainously
as if he were the real _Sam'l Hall_.

"Righto sir. What'll you have, mate?"

"Don't mate me, you igner'nt sweepin' of the South Sea, but trot up some
red-eye--and gallop."

The ex-sailor shifted his quid so that it stuck far out in the opposite
cheek with such violence of pressure that a little spot of white
appeared through the tan of the skin. He regarded Lawlor for a silent
moment with bodeful eyes.

"What the hell are you lookin' at?" roared the other. "On your way!"

The features of Kilrain twitched spasmodically.

"Righto, sir."

Another salute, and he was off, his voice coming back less and less
distinctly.

"So up the rope I'll go, I will go;
So up the rope I'll go--I'll go.
So up the rope I'll go
With the crowd all down below
Yelling, 'Sam, I told you so!'
Damn their eyes!"

CHAPTER XXV

HAIR LIKE THE SUNSHINE

"Well," grumbled Lawlor, settling back comfortably into his chair, "one
of these days I'm goin' to clean out my whole gang and put in a new one.
They maybe won't be any better but they can't be any wuss."

Nevertheless, he did not seem in the least downhearted, but apparently
had some difficulty in restraining his broad grin.

The voice of the grim cook returned:

"I'll see Nelly in the crowd, in the crowd;
I'll see Nelly in the crowd, in the crowd;
I'll see Nelly in the crowd,
And I'll holler to her loud:
'Hey, Nelly, ain't you proud--
Damn your eyes?'"

"I ask you," cried Lawlor, with freshly risen wrath, "is that any way to
go around talkin' about women?"

"Not talking. He's singing," answered Bard. "Let him alone."

The thunder of their burly Ganymede's singing rose and echoed about
them.

"And this shall be my knell, be my knell;
And this shall be my kne