Nares,' says
he, 'you better go below. If I had been one of the
men, you'd have got more than this. And I want no more
of your language on deck. You've cost me my fore-royal
already,' says he; 'and if you carry on, you'll have
the three sticks out of her.' That was old man Green's
idea of supporting officers. But you wait a bit; the
cream's coming. We made Melbourne right enough, and
the old man said: 'Mr. Nares, you and me don't draw
together. You're a first-rate seaman, no mistake of
that; but you're the most disagreeable man I ever
sailed with, and your language and your conduct to the
crew I cannot stomach. I guess we'll separate.' I
didn't care about the berth, you may be sure; but I
felt kind of mean, and if he made one kind of stink I
thought I could make another. So I said I would go
ashore and see how things stood; went, found I was all
right, and came aboard again on the top rail. 'Are you
getting your traps together, Mr. Nares?' says the old
man. 'No,' says I, 'I don't know as we'll separate
much before 'Frisco--at least,' I said, 'it's a point
for your consideration.
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