uthin'
but try ter pizen us ever since we come aboard. Ain't I right, mates?'

"'Righto,' they choruses; an' I begin t' think they'd soon be gittin' up
to mischief.

"'P'raps I might help yeh t' git some beer if yer was more respectful,'
I says hurriedly.

"'Beer!' they all yells, an' looks up at me all to onct as if I was a
dime museum freak.

"'Yes, beer,' I says quietly.

"'An' where'd you be gittin' it from?' asks one.

"'Never yeh mind that,' I answers. 'I've a dozen or two bottles of
English stout I brought aboard, an' since yeh're so anxious to taste a
drop o' beer, I don't mind lettin' yeh have some--at a price, o'
course.'

"'What's the figure?' Towers inquires suspiciously. He was a Michigan
man.

"'A dollar th' bottle.'

"'What!' shouts th' man as was ready t' give a month's pay fer a quart.
'A dollar th' bottle! Why, yer miserable old skinflint!'

"'A dollar th' bottle. That's the terms, take 'em or leave 'em,' says I,
very firmly.

"They talked a lot, and they swore a lot more, but finally seem' as I
wasn't t' be moved, and that they couldn't get the beer except at my
price, the hull ten of 'em agreed to have a bottle apiece.

"'Money down,' I stipulates; an' after a lot o' trouble they collects
seven dollars between 'em, an' tells me it's all they've got, an' if I
didn't bring up th' ten bottles mighty quick they'd knock me on th' head
an' drop me overboard.

"'Mind,' I said, as I goes off to th' galley, money in my hand; 'don't
yeh let th' officers see yeh drinkin' it or they'll think yeh've been
broachin' cargo, an' that's little short o' mutiny.'

"'Bring up that beer,' growls the Britisher, almost foamin' at th'
mouth.

"When I came back with th' ten bottles o' stout in a basket they all
looked so pleased an' happy it did my heart good ter look at 'em.

"'Hand it over,' they shouts impatiently.

"'I'm afraid it's gone a bit flat,' I said, as I handed th' bottles
round. 'But I've tried to pull it round.'

"Flat or not, they weren't goin' to kick; an' they was jest 'bout to
unscrew the stoppers when the second mate suddenly shoves his head down
the hatchway an' yells out:

"'On deck, yer lazy, skulking, highly colored lubbers. Tumble up at
once, an' git a lively move on, or I'll be down an' smarten ye up!'

"McClosky, the second mate, was not a fellow who stood any nonsense, an'
th' men weren't long before they was out o' th' fo'c's'le, grumblin'
an' swearin' as only men who'v