. The Viking blood; a story of seafaring. menced chanteying, and in haulingout the topgallantsail sheets and mastheading the royalyards, Donald felt something of seafaring romance, amidstthe hard work and his burning hands, in lustily bawlingthe ancient choruses of Sally Brown I love yer daughter!Wliisky Johnny, or On the plains of Mexico. By the time Pladda was abeam, it was becoming dark,and , sail-clad from scupper to truck, was rolling,a creamy bone in her teeth from her blunt bows andslugging along with a slight roll to port and the blue bulk of Ailsa Craig ahead
. The Viking blood; a story of seafaring. menced chanteying, and in haulingout the topgallantsail sheets and mastheading the royalyards, Donald felt something of seafaring romance, amidstthe hard work and his burning hands, in lustily bawlingthe ancient choruses of Sally Brown I love yer daughter!Wliisky Johnny, or On the plains of Mexico. By the time Pladda was abeam, it was becoming dark,and , sail-clad from scupper to truck, was rolling,a creamy bone in her teeth from her blunt bows andslugging along with a slight roll to port and the blue bulk of Ailsa Craig ahead over the jib-boomand her royals and fores1 set, the big wind-jammer beganto smell the windy spaces of her unsailed traverses, whileaft on the poop paced the Old Man—proud of his newcommand and anxious to see how she was shaping in the half-deck, Donald, aching in bone and muscle,and with hands blistered, skinned and paining, gulped histea in a daze, with but one consuming desire—to get intohis bunk and court blessed CLANG-CLANG! Clang-elang ! Clang-elang ! Clang-elang! Four double tolls sounded on the bell aftbetokened the sea-time of eight bells in the seconddog-watch, or 8 shore time. Donald was half dozing inhis bunk and listening aimlessly to the hardened Thompsonholding forth to Jenkins. Mark my words .... a ruddyworkhouse. No takin yer ease on this lime-juicer . . .nigger-drivin, back-breakin starvation Scotch tank . . .rotten dead cargo. . Shell be a truck to steer .... and aswine to tack. All day to-day .... sweating .... ealasheewatch. ... He growled away pessimistically while Don-ald nodded with eyes closed. ]\Ioore was in his bunk , like Donald, was tired and sore, but bore it in sulkysilence. Lay aft all handts! bawled Mr. Hinkel on the main-deck. Jenkins gave Donald a rude shake and brought himto wakefulness with a yell. Muster out on deck, nipper!Picking the watches, I guess! Donald scrambled out into the darkness. The barquewa
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookidvikingbloods, bookyear1920
