issed from the wheel for bad steering, was sitting on
the fore-hatch, a figure of truculence and discontent, mouthing a
statement on the Rights of Man, accompanied by every oath ever heard on
Clydeside from Caird's to Tommy Seath's at Ru'glen. It was not the
loss of his turn that he regretted--he was better here, where he could
squirt tobacco juice at will, than on the poop under the Mate's
eye--but, hardened at the 'Poort' as he was, he could not but feel the
curious glances of his watchmates, lounging about in dog-watch freedom
and making no secret of their contempt of an able seaman who couldn't
steer, to begin with.

"'Ow wos she 'eadin', young feller, w'en ye--left?" Cockney Hicks,
glancing away from the culprit, was looking at the trembling leaches of
top'gal'nsails, sign of head winds.

"'Er heid? Ach, aboot Nor' thurty west!"

"Nor' thirty west? Blimy! Where th' 'ell's that? 'Ere! Give us it
in points! None o' yer bloomin' degrees aboard square-sail, young
feller!"

"Weel, that's a' th' wye I ken it!" Sullen, mouth twisted askew in the
correct mode of the 'Poort,' defiant.

"It wis aye degrees in a' th' boats I hiv been in--none o' thae wee
black chats ye ca' p'ints; we niver heeded thim. Degrees, an' 'poort'
an' 'starboord '--t' hell wit' yer 'luffs' an' 'nae highers'!"

"Blimy!"

"Aye, blimy! An' I cud steer them as nate's ye like; but I'm no guid
enough fur that swine o' a Mate, aft there!" He spat viciously. "'Nae
higher,' sez he t' me. 'Nae higher, Sur,' says I, pitten' the wheel a
bit doon. 'Up,' says he, 'up, blast ye! Ye're lettin 'r come up i'
th' win',' says he. I pit th' ---- wheel up, keepin' ma 'ee on th'
compass caird; but that wis a fau't tae.... 'Damn ye!' says he; 'keep
yer 'ee on th' to'gallan' leaches,' ... 'Whaur's that?' sez I. 'Oh,
holy smoke!' sez he. 'Whit hiv we got here?' An' he cam' ower and hut
me a kick, an' shouts fur anither haun' t' th' wheel! ... By ----"
mumbling a vicious formula, eyes darkening angrily as he looked aft at
the misty figure on the poop.

Cockney looked at him curiously.

"Wot boats 'ave ye bin in, anyway?" he said. "Them boats wot ye never
steered by th' win' before?"

"---- fine boats! A ban' sicht better nor this bluidy ould wreck.
Boats wi' a guid gaun screw at th' stern av thim! Steamers, av coorse!
This is th' furst bluidy win'-jammer I hae been in, an' by ---- it'll
be th' last! An' that Mate! Him! ... Oh! If I on