The Heroine

by Eaton Stannard Barrett

'Gad, I thought so,' said he, 'for the devil a wave that same ocean had on it high or low. 'Pon my conscience, it was as smooth as the palm of my hand.'

'Take care, Jerry,' said I, laughing; 'I am afraid——'

'Why then,' cried he, 'that I may never——'

'Hush!' said I. 'No swearing.'

'By dad,' cried he, 'you had better tell my story yourself; for you seem resolved to have it all your own way. May be you won't believe me neither, when I tell you that I landed?'

'As you are not at sea now,' said I, 'I will believe you.'

'Well then,' said he, 'I suppose you will believe that I made a little money by reaping, and then trudged to London to try my fortune.'

'I make no doubt of the fact,' said I. 'But pray how did you contrive to subsist in London at first?'

'By spitting through my teeth,' said Jerry.

'Take care,' cried I. 'This I suspect is another——'