VOICES—We must be passing the Hook. She's beginning to roll to it. Six days in hell—and then Southampton. Py Yesus, I vish somepody take my first vatch for me! Gittin' seasick, Square-head? Drink up and forget it! What's in your bottle? Gin. Dot's nigger trink. Absinthe? It's doped. You'll go off your chump,Froggy! Cochon! Whiskey, that's the ticket! Where's Paddy? Going asleep. Sing us that whiskey song,Paddy. [They all turn to an old, wizened Irishman who is dozing, very drunk, on the benches forward.His face is extremely monkey-like with all the sad,patient pathos of that animal in his small eyes.] Singa da song, Caruso Pat! He's gettin' old. The drink is too much for him. He's too drunk.