us to
have a look. "Now another little wash of coffee in the wake of that
and I'll be all right for a fine little watch aloft."

He jammed his sou'wester hard down, and heroically waved away the
remainder of the pie. "No, no. First thing I know I'll be having
dyspepsia. I never had it yet, but I might," and then heaved himself
up the companionway, humming, as he went, one of his old favorites:

"Oh, the 'Liza Jane and the Maria Louise
Sailed a race one day for a peck of peas.
You'd hardly believe the way them two
Carried sail that day--they fairly flew.

People ashore they said, 'Gee whiz!
The 'Liza Jane the fastest is.'"

We could hear him scrambling, still humming, over the barrels on deck.
He halted long enough by the rail to say, "How is it, boys?" to the
watch on deck, and then swung himself up the rigging. Once aloft he
had his work cut out, with hours of strain on brain and nerve. But
Clancy never minded--he never minded anything so far as we could make
out.

XXIII

DRESSING DOWN

That night was the worst I ever put in towing astern of a vessel.
"Owling" is the seiners' word for that kind of work. It was "owling"
sure enough, with the seine-boat on a short painter and the dory on a
shorter painter still and astern of the seine-boat again. We came near
to being lost in the dory. Mel Adams, who was in the dory with me,
thinking she was surely going to capsize one time she rode up over the
stern of the seine-boat, took a flying leap into the seine-boat. He
had a hard time getting back, for there was quite a little sea on.
Even in the seine-boat they were all glad enough to hear Clancy give
the word to cast off and pull after the school.

It was a big school, and hard work in that sea, but we had them safe
at last. The vessel then came alongside and the bailing in began.
Having had a good long lay-off we bailed them in with plenty of
good-will. It was "He-yew!" "Oy-hoo!" "Hi-o!" and "Drive her!" all
along the line until we had on deck what the skipper thought was a
hundred barrels. Then the bag was put around the seine to protect the
rest of the mackerel from dogfish and sharks, and we were ready to
dress.

Barrels were tossed out of the hold, keelers set up, sharp-edged
knives drawn from diddy-boxes below, and a chance had to see a smart
crew dressing a haul of mackerel that were to be salted. It was too
long a run, four hundred miles or so, to take a cha