There was this guy standing aft; yes, that’s right, a guy. He looked happy as could be, and he laughingly said (I repeat word for word) ‘Hey there, Good Hope, since your arm’s so long, it must be mighty handy to scratch your ass, eh?’ It was cause for concern, but he vanished without my seeing him go, while I was picking my way aft to shut him up. I threw the empty bottle overboard, and went below. Just then, I saw the Southern Cross to port, Joshua having swung around little by little in the flat calm, unnoticed. So the other guy blasphemed with his back to Good Hope. Nothing serious, thank
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