Thomas Muggridge's Last Gipper

Thomas Muggridge is becoming unendorable. Wolf Larson seems to have taken a fancy to him. Two or three times he put his head into the galley and shaved Muggridge good-naturedly. Once this afternoon he stood by the break of the poop and chatted with him for fully fifteen minutes. When it was over, Muggridge became greasily radiant and went about his work humming costar songs and nerve-racking and discordant false-auto. And what does the fool up and say when the old man calls him Johnson? But my name is Johnson, sir, and then spells it out a letter for a letter. You should have seen the

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