The highest note of humour was reached in
the case of the Chinese cook, who was shipped under the
name of "One Lung," to the sound of his own protests
and the self-approving chuckles of the functionary.
"Now, captain," said the latter, when the men were
gone, and he had bundled up his papers, "the law
requires you to carry a slop-chest and a chest of
medicines."
"I guess I know that," said Nares.
"I guess you do," returned the commissioner, and helped
himself to port.
But when he was gone, I appealed to Nares on the same
subject, for I was well aware we carried none of these
provisions.
"Well," drawled Nares, "there's sixty pounds of
niggerhead on the quay, isn't there? and twenty pounds
of salts; and I never travel without some pain-killer
in my gripsack."
As a matter of fact, we were richer. The captain had
the usual sailor's provision of quack medicines, with
which, in the usual sailor fashion, he would daily drug
himself, displaying an extreme inconstancy, and
flitting from Kennedy's Red Discovery to Kennedy's
White, and from Hood's Sarsaparilla to Mother Seigel's
Syrup.
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