Hand him over the jug.

Empty--eh, Charley?
Come, Sparkie, bear a hand; the liquor's out." "But won't you let me eat ?" "Eat! Heavens, what a fellow for eating! By George, such an appetite is clean against the articles of war! Come, man, it's drink we're thinking of.
There's the rum, sugar, limes; see to the hot water.

Well, Skipper, how are we getting on ?" "Lying our course; eight knots off the log.

Pass the rum.

Why, Mister Sparks!" "Eh, Sparks, what's this ?" "Sparks, my man, confound it!" And then, _omnes_ chorussing "Sparks!" in every key of the gamut, the luckless fellow would be obliged to jump up from his meagre fare and set to work at a fresh brewage of punch for the others.