1 From to-day a child will be able to navigate a ship.
2 I'll have you know that I do the swearing on this ship.
3 My mighty rhythm was the lift and forward plunge of a ship on the sea.
4 There is no congeniality between him and the rest of the men aboard ship.
5 It is a whim of mine to keep you aboard this ship, where my piggishness flourishes.
6 Further, letting drop the volume during a lurch of the ship, a sheet of paper fell out.
7 He was standing in the same position, swaying easily to the roll of the ship and lighting a fresh cigar.
8 The terrific gong was a frying-pan, hanging on the wall, that rattled and clattered with each leap of the ship.
9 Clinging to the woodwork, staggering with the roll of the ship, and aided by the cook, I managed to slip into a rough woollen undershirt.
10 A draggled muslin cap on his head and a dirty gunny-sack about his slim hips proclaimed him cook of the decidedly dirty ship's galley in which I found myself.
11 The dead man was an episode that was past, an incident that was dropped, in a canvas covering with a sack of coal, while the ship sped along and her work went on.
12 I could see their faces, flushed and angry, the brutality distorted and emphasized by the sickly yellow of the sea-lamps which rocked back and forth with the ship.
13 And for two hours we sat there, face to face, whet, whet, whet, till the news of it spread abroad and half the ship's company was crowding the galley doors to see the sight.
14 For three days this blinding headache lasted, and he suffered as wild animals suffer, as it seemed the way on ship to suffer, without plaint, without sympathy, utterly alone.
15 Then blisters came, in a painful and never-ending procession, and I had a great burn on my forearm, acquired by losing my balance in a roll of the ship and pitching against the galley stove.
16 The air was thick and murky with the smoke of it; and this, combined with the violent movement of the ship as she struggled through the storm, would surely have made me sea-sick had I been a victim to that malady.
17 It is no pleasant picture I can conjure up of myself, Humphrey Van Weyden, in that noisome ship's galley, crouched in a corner over my task, my face raised to the face of the creature about to strike me, my lips lifted and snarling like a dog's, my eyes gleaming with fear and helplessness and the courage that comes of fear and helplessness.
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