over the galley floor in a slippery flood. Following the example of one of his own pots, which at that moment boiled over onto the red-hot stove, the cook turned upon the intruder, sputtering a volley of abuse.
"Aw, come on, Al," replied the seaman. "I didn't mean to let the English Channel in. Give us a cup of coffee. I'm just off watch."
Al forgot his wrath as quickly as it had come upon him, and reached for the huge coffee-pot that was wedged securely amid the assemblage of cooking utensils on the heated stove. Swinging it with a practiced hand, he poured a cup of the steaming coffee, as he balanced himself to the rolling of the ship, and with a good-natured grin handed it to the waiting sailor.
"I'm glad I ain't on deck to-day," Al said, as he watched the coffee disappear. "Bein' cook ain't just the job for a man, but it's more comfortable than standin' watch and watch in the English Channel in February."
"Well," replied the other, "I won't kick, 'cause the worse job on this ship ain't standin' watch on the bridge. To my notion, bein' one of them armed guards is the worst. You ought to see 'em up on the forecastle tryin' to keep from bein' washed overboard and tryin' at the same time to find a sub to shoot at."
