human
How do we go now, Jacob?
gpt
Steady, and all's right; but we shall be met with the wind next reach, and had better brail up the mainsail.
human
Go, then, Tom, and help Jacob.
gpt
I can't leave the _ingons_, [onions] father, not if the lighter tumbled overboard; it would bring more tears in my eyes to spoil them, now that they are frying so merrily, than they did when I was cutting them up. Besides, the liver would be as black as the bends.
human
Well, the moon's a beautiful creature--God bless her! How often have we longed for her in the dark winter, channel-cruising, when the waves were flying over the Eddystone, and trying in their malice to put out the light. I don't wonder at people making songs to the moon, nor at my singing them. We'll anchor when we get down the next reach.