fearing an outburst; half-amusedly, as if they saw a joke somewhere
that tickled them.

VOICES--He ain't ate nothin'.

Py golly, a fallar gat gat grub in him.

Divil a lie.

Yank feeda da fire, no feeda da face.

Ha-ha.

He ain't even washed hisself.

He's forgot.

Hey, Yank, you forgot to wash.

YANK--[_Sullenly._] Forgot nothin'! To hell wit washin'.

VOICES--It'll stick to you. It'll get under your skin. Give yer the
bleedin' itch, that's wot. It makes spots on you--like a leopard. Like
a piebald nigger, you mean. Better wash up, Yank. You sleep better.
Wash up, Yank. Wash up! Wash up!

YANK--[_Resentfully._] Aw say, youse guys. Lemme alone. Can't youse see
I'm tryin' to tink?

ALL--[_Repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery._]
Think! [_The word has a brazen, metallic quality as if their throats
were phonograph horns. It is followed by a chorus of hard, barking
laughter._]

YANK--[_Springing to his feet and glaring at them belligerently._] Yes,
tink! Tink, dat's what I said! What about it? [_They are silent,
puzzled by his sudden resentment at what used to be one of his jokes.
Yank sits down again in the same attitude of "The Thinker."_]

VOICES--Leave him alone.

He's got a grouch on.

Why wouldn't he?

PADDY--[_With a wink at the others._] Sure I know what's the matther.
'Tis aisy to see. He's fallen in love, I'm telling you.

ALL--[_Repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery._]
Love! [_The word has a brazen, metallic quality as if their throats
were phonograph horns. It is followed by a chorus of hard, barking
laughter._]

YANK--[_With a contemptuous snort._] Love, hell! Hate, dat's what. I've
fallen in hate, get me?

PADDY--[_Philosophically_] 'Twould take a wise man to tell one from the
other. [_With a bitter, ironical scorn, increasing as he goes on._] But
I'm telling you it's love that's in it. Sure what else but love for us
poor bastes in the stokehole would be bringing a fine lady, dressed
like a white quane, down a mile of ladders and steps to be havin' a
look at us? [_A growl of anger goes up from all sides._]

LONG--[_Jumping on a bench--hecticly_] Hinsultin' us! Hinsultin' us,
the bloody cow! And them bloody engineers! What right 'as they got to
be exhibitin' us 's if we was bleedin' monkeys in a menagerie? Did we
sign for hinsults to our dignity as 'onest workers? Is that in the
ship's articles? You kin bloody well bet it ain't! But I knows wh