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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Love Me Little, Love Me Long"

"
"I don't know; I have seen wonders done with this lateen rig in the
Pacific."
"The lugger forereaches on us, sir."
"A little, but, for all that, I am glad she is on board our craft; we
have got more beam, and, if it comes to the worst, we can run. The
lugger can't with her sharp stern. I'll go to the helm."
Just as David was stepping aft to take the helm, a wave struck the
boat hard on the weather bow, close to the gunwale, and sent a bucket
of salt water flying all over him; he never turned his head even--took
no more notice of it than a rock does when the sea spits at it. Lucy
shrieked and crouched behind the tarpaulin. David took the helm, and,
seeing Talboys white, said kindly: "Why don't you go forward, sir, and
make yourself snug under the folksel deck? she is sure to wet us abaft
before we can make the land."
No. Talboys resisted his inclination and the deadly nausea that was
creeping over him.
"Thank you, but I like to see what is going on; and" (with an heroic
attempt at sea-slang) "I like a wet boat."
They now fell in with the lugger again lying on the opposite tack, and
a hundred yards at least to windward.
Just before they crossed her wake David sang out to Jack:
"Our masts--are they sound?"
"Bran-new, sir; best Norway pine."
"What d'ye think?"
"Think we are wasting time and daylight."
"Then stand _by_ the main sheet."
"Yes, sir."
_"Slack_ the main sheet."
"Ay, ay, sir."
The boat instantly fell off into the wind, and, as she went round,
David stood up in the stern-sheets and waved his cap to the men on
board the lugger, who were watching him.


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