She carries her catheads amidships.

The ship's all right, once you get the hang of her." "Bill, we _must_ 'ave him!" "Hush it, you swab! He's beginning again." "But when among the heaving clouds, Aloft, alone, with folded arms, He hangs _her_ portrait in the shrouds And feeds on Susan's glowing charms, To th' horizon Soft his sighs on Angel wings the zephyrs fan, While his feelings, Deep revealings, Prove that Jack remains a _Man_!" "'Ear that, Bill ?" "O' course I 'ears it.

Why not?
I _knew_ there was something funny wi' them shrouds.

They carries the family portraits on 'em--it's all right, I tell you." "But 'feeds,' he said." "Meanin' the picter; though maybe they sling the meat-safe there as well.

They _ought_ to." "They _couldn't_!" "Why not?
Well, then, p'raps they strikes it now and then _in_ a gale--off Pernambuco--along wi' the t'gallant yards.