six o'clock
` Twa 'n' t savin ' life neither ; 't was jest a matter of bus ` ness . `` It happened up off the coast of Maine ` long in the seventies . I was actin ' as sort of second mate on a lumber schooner . 'T was a pitch-black night , or mornin ' rather , ` bout six o'clock , blowin ' like all possessed and colder 'n Greenland . We struck a rock that wa 'n' t even down on an Eldredge chart and punched a hole in the schooner 's side , jest above what ought to have been the water line , only she was heeled over so that 't was consider ` ble below it most of the time . We had a mean crew aboard , Portugees mainly , and poor ones at that . The skipper was below , asleep , and when he come on deck things was in a bad way .