There was fighting in the fo’c’sle; and the aggressor, a hard-faced,
hard-fisted sailor man from Rotherhithe, was called upon to explain.
“That square-headed Swede miscalled me,” he bellowed. “He said I was an
Irishman, and I’m not. Me mother was a good Mexican lady and me father
was two marines from Chatham!”
The explanation cordially accepted.
* * * * *