nine o'clock
`` Any advance ? '' `` Yes . '' And so on with each of us . `` Do n't forget , '' says the clerk from the depths of a three-and-a-half-inch collar , `` to be on the ship at nine o'clock to-morrow morning . '' And we troop out to make room for another crew , meet yet another coming to be paid off at the other counter , wish we were they , and eventually reach the ship . Strange scenes sometimes , in that shipping office , or , for that matter , in any shipping office . I shall not forget that forlorn little lad we had once engaged for mess-room steward at two pounds five a month , with his red little nose and the bullied look in his eyes .