What's-your name! For the Lord's sake, keep her off!
He'll beat the life out of you!"
And all the good that done was for me to get a stare that was colder
than the wind, if such a thing's possible.
But Jonadab got fidgetyer every minute, and when we come out into
the broadest part of the river, within a little ways of the buoy, he
couldn't stand it no longer.
"You're spilling half the wind!" he yells. "Pint' her for the buoy or
else you'll be licked to death! Jibe her so's she gits it full. Jibe
her, you lubber! Don't you know how? Here! let me show you!"
And the next thing I knew he fetched a hop like a frog, shoved Phil out
of the way, grabbed the tiller, and jammed it over.
She jibed--oh, yes, she jibed! If anybody says she didn't you send 'em
to me. I give you my word that that flat-iron jibed twice--once for
practice, I jedge, and then for business. She commenced by twisting and
squirming like an eel. I jest had sense enough to clamp my mittens
onto the little brass rail by the stern and hold on; then she jibed the
second time. She stood up on two legs, the boom come over with a slat
that pretty nigh took the mast with it, and the whole shebang whirled
around as if it had forgot something. I have a foggy kind of remembrance
of locking my mitten clamps fast onto that rail while the rest of me
streamed out in the air like a burgee. Next thing I knew we was scooting
back towards Dillaway's, with the sail catching every ounce that was
blowing.
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