Thus
small events grow memorable by the passage of time. As to the quality
of the address itself I cannot say it was very striking. Too short for
eloquence and devoid of all charm of tone, it consisted precisely of the
three words "Look out there!" growled out huskily above my head.
It proceeded from a big fat fellow (he had an obtrusive, hairy double
chin) in a blue woollen shirt and roomy breeches pulled up very high,
even to the level of his breastbone, by a pair of braces quite exposed
to public view. As where he stood there was no bulwark, but only a
rail and stanchions, I was able to take in at a glance the whole of his
voluminous person from his feet to the high crown of his soft black hat,
which sat like an absurd flanged cone on his big head. The grotesque and
massive aspect of that deck hand (I suppose he was that--very likely the
lamp-trimmer) surprised me very much. My course of reading, of dreaming,
and longing for the sea had not prepared me for a sea brother of that
sort. I never met again a figure in the least like his except in the
illustrations to Mr. W. W. Jacobs's most entertaining tales of barges
and coasters; but the inspired talent of Mr. Jacobs for poking endless
fun at poor, innocent sailors in a prose which, however extravagant in
its felicitous invention, is always artistically adjusted to observed
truth, was not yet.
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