#killick ilu

'Which he gone ashore in a bumboat before the crack of dawn,' said Killick with a lewd grin; in Killick's mind there was, only one valid reason for going ashore, apart from getting drunk. He would have ventured some facetiousness had the Captain looked his usual pink cheerful morning self rather than grey-yellow and old, as though he had passed a sleepless night.

'Oh well, never mind,' said Jack, in such a tone that Killick glanced at him with real concern.

‘He’ll take his nice bolus, sir, or my name’s not Preserved.’

‘I shall have to shift my togs first,’ said Bonden, looking away.

‘Which he means was he to carry a fiddle the redcoats might call out Give us a tune, sailor,’ said Killick. ‘You wouldn’t like that, your honour, not with Surprise on the ribbon of his hat. No. What you would like is for me to call a blackguard boy to carry it; and Bonden will go along and keep an eye on him, as in duty bound.’

From the main and the fore yards hung broad but extraordinarily shallow square sails, so low that when Stephen was led on deck to see them he asked where they were intended to be hoisted. ‘They are hoisted,’ he was told, in a voice of strong displeasure.

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Since the ship was very well found in bosun’s and sailmaker’s stores, she wore all the staysails that could possibly be managed. 'It is just like Bridie Colman’s washing day, I do declare,’ cried Stephen, in another unfortunate attempt to please. 'Everything is within an easy hand’s reach, so it is.’

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'This is an extraordinarily small piece of plum-duff,’ he observed at dinner - Sunday dinner - in the cabin. 'I wish it may not be an ignoble stroke of revenge for my innocent words this morning about our harmless, meek, and bargelike appearance -innocent upon my word, and even, I thought, amusing - a mild pleasantry. But not at all: prim faces, wry looks, and now this meagre, despicable pudding. I had thought better of my shipmates.’

'You mistake, brother,’ said Jack. 'Mr Adams and I, in our joint character as purser, cast our accounts yesterday, reckoning every last firkin of oatmeal, every bin and locker in the bread-room, and dividing the whole, private stores not excepted, by the number of mouths aboard. That piece of pudding is your full ration, my poor Stephen.’

'Oh, indeed,’ said Stephen, looking rather blank.

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'And Stephen, may I beg you not to be facetious when speaking of the barky? The people are surprisingly susceptible, if you know what I mean, about her appearance. And if ever you intend to be complimentary, you might well be advised just to throw up your hands and cry “Oh”, or “Superb”, or “I have never seen anything better”, without being particular.’

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'The Doctor has been choked off for being a satyr,’ said Killick to Grimble.

'What’s a satyr?’

'What an ignorant cove you are to be sure, Art Grimble: just ignorant, is all. A satyr is a party that talks sarcastic. Choked off something cruel, he was; and his duff taken away and eaten before his eyes.’

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Although the ship was wonderfully busy the news spread forward with its usual speed, and Stephen, making his way to the forecastle to watch albatrosses and the nondescript petrel that had been following the ship for some days, was greeted with particular kindness, brought a coil of soft manilla to sit upon, given a pair of belaying-pins to hold his telescope steady, and told about the birds that had been seen that day.

-The Wine-Dark Sea, Patrick O'Brian