‘What’s he doin’ aboard?’ they asked, seeing the Spuddy. ‘Ship’s dog,’ replied Jake laconically. ‘Where’s his kid, then?’ asked the youngest crewman, recognizing the dog and when Jake gave a brief explanation they murmured small pretended grumbles about having a dog aboard and hoped he would not be responsible for another run of bad luck. ‘Not him.’ Jake spoke with conviction as he gave the Spuddy a rough stroking. ‘He’s goin’ to be our mascot, you’ll see.’ And as their mascot they came to regard him since on his first night at sea with them they ran into an enormous shoal of herring and came back gunwale deep with their load. The crew were jubilant with the knowledge that their run of ill-luck had ended. ‘I told you he’d be our mascot,’ Jake reminded them and the crew accepted his remark with such seriousness that the Spuddy, had he allowed it, would have become more of a ship’s pet than a ship’s dog.
