Every shaft well sent.

Every stave well nocked.

Every string well locked.' There, with that jingle in his head, a bracer on his left hand, a shooting glove on his right, and a farthing's-worth of wax in his girdle, what more doth a bowman need ?" "It would not be amiss," said Hordle John, "if under his girdle he had tour farthings'-worth of wine." "Work first, wine afterwards, mon camarade.

But it is time that we took our order, for methinks that between the Needle rocks and the Alum cliffs yonder I can catch a glimpse of the topmasts of the galleys.
Hewett, Cook, Johnson, Cunningham, your men are of the poop-guard.
Thornbury, Walters, Hackett, Baddlesmere, you are with Sir Oliver on the forecastle.

Simon, you bide with your lord's banner; but ten men must go forward." Quietly and promptly the men took their places, lying flat upon their faces on the deck, for such was Sir Nigel's order.