Chow! His right hand, mean-time, describing stately circles for it was
representing a forty-foot wheel.
Let her go back on the labboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow-ch-chow-chow!
The left hand began to describe circles.
Stop the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Stop the labboard! Come ahead on
the stabboard! Stop her! Let your outside turn over slow!
Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow-ow-ow! Get out that head-line! _lively_ now!
Come out with your spring-line what re you about there! Take a turn
round that stump with the bight of it! Stand by that stage, now let her
go! Done with the engines, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling! SH T! S H T! SH T!
(trying the gauge-cocks).
Tom went on whitewashing paid no attention to the steamboat. Ben stared
a moment and then said: _Hi-Yi! You re_ up a stump, ain t you!
No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then
he gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result, as
before. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom s mouth watered for the
apple, but he stuck to his work. Ben said:
Hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?
Tom wheeled suddenly and said:
Why, it s you, Ben! I warn t noticing.
Say I m going in a-swimming, I am. Don t you wish you could? But of
course you d druther _work_ wouldn t you? Course you would!
Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said:
What do you call work?
Why, ain t _that_ work?
Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly:
Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain t. All I know, is, it suits Tom
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