"
"You'd be wishing yourself ashore soon," returned Tom apathetically.
"Wait till 'e gets seasick."
"What is that? Does the sea make you sick?"
"I should say it do. But there's a mighty fine cure for all that.
Aye, 'tis a bracin', healthful cure."
"Tell me, Mr. Bludson. You know I might get seasick, too."
"Ye be bound to. Then cap'n 'e'll say lay forrid there and trice up
that fo'topmast stays'l brace; and there you is first 'e know fifty
feet above the fo' s'l boom, a takin' a good look of an hour or so at
old Neptune. Well, if that don't fetch 'e all right, cap'n 'e'll say
'Reeve a slip knot under his arms' which, no sooner done than overboard
you goes for a dip or two. That always brings 'em round."
"Looks like a queer way to cure a sick man," commented Ralph, who but
half comprehended the boatswain's lingo.
"It beats the doctor though all the same," said Tom with rather a
heartless grin. "But look round. What do 'e think of the Curlew now?
Ain't she a beauty?"
The tug had got near enough to enable the proportions of the vessel to
be seen quite distinctly.
Even to Ralph she was a graceful and pleasing sight. The long, low,
black hull exhibited curves as perfect as the flowing sweep of a
rainbow. The tall mast, the tapering tracery of spars, the snowy
canvas and the general trim and orderly air maintained, were all
attractive to the eye.
In a brief time, the tug was lying alongside and the stores transferred
to the schooner's hold in short order.
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