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Excerpt from The Nigger of the Narcissus: A Tale of the Forecastle
Mr. Baker, chief mate of the ship Narcissus, stepped in one stride out of his lighted cabin into the darkness of the quarter-deck. Above his head, on the break of the poop, the night watchman rang a double stroke. It was nine o'clock. Mr. Baker, speaking up to the man above him, asked -are all the hands aboard, Knowles?
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