J. J. Bell

“ TEN PER CENT. In the trawler's snug cabin the supper-time talk had turned to woman as a substitute for man in the nation's hour of need.
The skipper, who weighed nineteen stones, and who had lately wedded for the third time, allowed that a woman might even be made into a policeman of sorts. “But,” he added ponderously, “never a seaman.”
“Hasn't the strength, ye mean?” the mate remarked in a voice impeded by toast.
“Nor the brains,” said the engineer.
“Not so sure 'bout the brains.” The mate, as if to prepare for an argument, swallowed hurriedly. He was not married, but there was a girl... ”

“ The silence which followed this remarkable statement was broken by the entrance of the elderly cook bearing a large relay of fish which had been drawn from the depths of the North Sea not four hours earlier. ”

“ He smiled upon the sulky mate. “Listen! One pound itself is not a terrible large sum o' money; but s'posin' ye had ten pound, Teddy, an' I borrowed one—ye'd miss that pound, wouldn't ye?”
“To me dyin' day! But I don't see——”
The engineer interposed. “S'posin' this old boat had ten per cent. less speed, would she be as fit for her job?”
Teddy grunted impatiently. “Ye both talk as if a —— o' a lot o' brains was needed to make a seaman, whereas, from what I've seen on this here ship——”
“Here, my lad,” the skipper smartly commanded, “keep yer sauce for yer fish! ”