«The doctor—» I began.
But he broke in cursing the doctor, in a feeble voice but heartily. «Doctors is all swabs,» he said; «and that doctor there, why, what do he know about seafaring men? I been in places hot as pitch, and mates dropping round with Yellow Jack, and the blessed land a-heaving like the sea with earthquakes—what to the doctor know of lands like that?—and I lived on rum, I tell you.
It's been meat and drink, and man and wife, to me; and if I'm not to have my rum now I'm a poor old hulk on a lee shore, my blood'll be on you, Jim, and that doctor swab»; and he ran on again for a while with curses.”