man! "Aw, go chase yourself!" he
said contemptuously. A minute after, when he picked himself up from
the heap of slimy fish in the bottom of the boat, he saw the Captain
standing solidly on one cowhide-shod foot, while the other was drawn
easily back and rested on its toe. When Josiah recovered his breath, the
burst of bad language with which he assailed his companion did credit to
his street bringing up. It was as short as it was fierce, however, and
ended amid the cod and the mussels from the overturned bait bucket.
But, as the Captain said afterwards, he was "spunky" and rose again,
incoherent with rage.

"You--you--I'll kill you!" he shrieked. "You promised not to touch me,
you lyin' old--"

He tried to get out of the way, but didn't succeed, and this time merely
sat up and sobbed as Captain Eri said in even tones:

"No, I'm not lyin'. I promised not to lay a hand on you in anger, that's
all. Fust place, I don't kick with my hands, and, second place, I ain't
angry. Now, then, pick up them lines."

The "able seaman" was frightened. This sort of treatment was new to
him. He judged it best to obey now and "get square" later on. He sulkily
picked up the codlines, and threw the hooks overboard. Captain Eri,
calmly resuming his fishing, went on to say, "The fust thing a sailor
has to l'arn is to obey orders. I see you've stopped smokin'. Light up."

"I don't want to."

"Well, I want you TO. Light up."

"I won't. Oh, yes, I will!"

He eyed the threatening boot fearfully and lit the awful pipe with
shaking fingers. But he had taken but a few puffs when it went over the
side, and it seemed to Josiah that the larger half of himself went with
it. The Captain watched the paroxysm grimly.

"Sick, hey?" he grunted, "and not a capful of wind stirrin'. You're
a healthy sailor! I thought I'd shipped a man, but I see 'twas only a
sassy baby. My uncle Labe had a good cure for seasickness. You take a
big hunk of fat salt pork, dip it in molasses, and--"

"Oh, d-o-n-'t!" Another spasm.

"Dip it in molasses," repeated Captain Eri.

"Don't, Cap! PLEASE don't!"

"Another thing a sailor learns is not to call his skipper 'Cap.' A
fo'mast hand always says 'Aye, aye, sir,' when his off'cer speaks to
him. Understand that?"

"Y-e-s. Oh, Lord!"

"WHAT?"

"Ye--I mean aye, aye."

"Aye, aye, WHAT?"

"Aye, aye, SIR! OH, dear me!"

"That's better. Now pick up them lines."

Well, 'twas a dreadful forenoon for Josiah; one not