The song was cut short by the
mutual warmth of greeting.
"What ho, Jack!" interjected the faithful comrade, with a
gigantic laugh; "you are under very small canvas this
morning. Have you been in heavy weather?"
"Yes," said Jack, "I have; but there's a fellow coming up
astern must have had it worse than me. He _was_ under bare
poles, but I see he's got a suit of newspapers bent now, and
he's forging ahead very fast!"
There is a grim humour about this story which brings a
certain type of sailor vividly to mind.
CHAPTER XIII
THE MATTER-OF-FACT SAILOR
I always feel inclined to break the law when I see a West
End or any other dandy on a theatrical stage libelling the
sailor by his silly personification: hitching his breeches,
slapping his thigh, lurching his body, and stalking about in
a generally ludicrous fashion, at the same time using
phrases which the real sailor would disdain to use: such as
"my hearty," "shiver-my-timbers," and other stupid
expressions that Jack of to-day never thinks of giving
utterance to. If theatrical folk would only take the trouble
to acquaint themselves with the real characteristics of the
sailor, and caricature him accurately, they would find, even
in these days, precious material to make play from.
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