"
But in spite of his sarcasm the captain attacked his self-appointed
task with the grim determination that had made him respected in
every port wherever the big deep water tramp, of which he was the
proud master, had dropped her huge mudhook.
The steamer was laid up at Boston, having a splendid collection of
tropical barnacles scraped from her stout hull. If it had not been
for the barnacles, the captain would not have been ashore.
For a week the captain studied strenuously, hardly allowing himself
time to sleep. Abner offered to assist him at rehearsals and every
afternoon he drilled Captain Enoch diligently. He was a firm
disciplinarian and insisted upon his pupil's being letter perfect.
Book in hand, he corrected the captain vigorously.
"It's 'es-teemed lady'" he admonished the captain. "You said 'steamed.'
M'lissy ain't cooked. An' you stutter yet when you come to that word
right after painful. Can't you say it plainer?"
"'Trep-trep-trepidation,'" stammered the captain again. "Say it
yourself," he dared Abner. "I'll bet you can't do no better."
"I ain't tryin' to say it," Abner reminded him with dignity.
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