‘“We are,” says Jim and Lishe—“that is, with some other chaps to ’elp, but this ’ere’s a salvage job, this is,” and with that they winks at Jacob Trent and Bill Morgan, two chaps off another smack, just to let them knaow they was in the job.
‘“Salvage job be damned—robbery yaou mean,” says Cockney Smith, and with that ’e goes off to look at pore ould Gladstone.
‘We an’ all went with ’im, but it was that dark us couldn’t see ould Gladstone, but on’y the tumbril, but us heard she a breathin’, so us knaowed she were alive.
“‘Pore ould Gladstone! that’s a strain on ’er,” sez ould Jacob Trent. ’E were wonnerful fond of ould Gladstone, was ould Jacob.
‘When Cockney Smith got back, he were that angry ’e fared to be a goin’ to bust, but Jim ’e says,
“Naow look at here, ef ould Gladstone ain’t got out o’ that crick by half-past eleven she’ll draown, for that’s high water at midnight.”
‘“Yes, yes,” says Lishe; “and ef she don’t draown she’ll most likely get run daown, as the Juliet Ann’s a comin’ in this tide or next to load straw, and she’s baound to stand in where ould Gladstone be with the wind this way.”
‘“Pore ould Gladstone! that’s a strain on ’er, that is, and she be wonnerful an’ ould,” says Jacob.
‘Well, landlord he seed he’d lose ould Gladstone ef he den’t do suthen, so ’e says: “What do you chaps want for gettin’ of she aout?”
“I reckon ould Gladstone and the tumbril’s worth the best part of ten paounds, and one-third of that is four paounds or thereabaouts,” says Lishe.