206 A YEAR WITH A WHALER 



heart and often sang them on the topsail halyard 

 or while reefing on the topsail yard. The green 

 hands soon picked up the words and airs of the 

 choruses and joined in. The day laborer on land 

 has no idea how work at sea is lightened by these 

 songs. 



Gabriel knew no end of them, and in a round, 

 musical voice led the men at the windlass in such 

 rollicking old-time sea airs as Whiskey for the 

 Johnnies," "Blow the Man Down," "Blow, 

 Boys, Blow," and " Rolling Rio." He would 

 sing a verse and the sailors would stand with 

 their hands on the windlass bars until he had 

 concluded. Then they would heave away with 

 a will and make the pawls clank and clatter as 

 they roared out the chorus. The old negro's 

 favorite was " Whiskey for the Johnnies." It 

 had a fine rousing chorus and we liked to sing it 

 not only for its stirring melody but because we 

 always harbored a hope — which, I may add, was 

 never realized — that the captain would be 

 touched by the words and send forward a drop 

 of liquor with which to wet our whistles. Ga- 

 briel would begin in this way: 



