"This main-topsail's stiff up-and-down. How'm I to take in three reefs when the sail's stiff up-and-down?"
"Why," said the old man, "you can't do it. Come out o' that! Down from aloft, you hoof-footed son. That's one to me."
"Yes," says the devil, when he got on deck again, "I don't deny it, cap'n. That's one to you."
"Now, Mr. Devil," said the old man, going towards the rail, "suppose you was to step into that little boat alongside there. Will you please?"
"Ay, ay, sir," he said, and he slid down the forrard fall, got into the stern sheets, and sat down.
"Now, Mr. Devil," said the skipper, taking a little salt spoon from his vest pocket, "supposin' you bail all the water on that side the boat on to this side the boat, using this spoon as your dipper."
Well!—the devil just looked at him.
"Say!" he said at length, "which of the New England States d'ye hail from anyway?"
"Not Jersey, anyway," said the old man, "That's two up, alright; ain't it, sonny?"
"Yes," growls the devil, as he climbs aboard.
