“Well, but I forgives him; it’s all done in good humour.”
“Tom, you’re a wag; but you wag your tongue to no purpose. Liquor ain’t good for a boy like you, and it grows upon you.”
“Well, don’t I grow too? we grow together.”
“You’ll grow faster without it.”
“I’ve no wish to be a tall man cut short, like you.”
“If I hadn’t been a tall man, my breath would have been cut short for ever; the ball which took my legs would have cut you right in half.”
“And the ball that would take your head off, would whistle over mine; so there we are equal again.”
“And there’s the grog fast,” replied old Tom, turning the key, and putting it into his pocket. “That’s a stopper over all; so now we’ll go on deck.”
I have narrated this conversation, as it will give the reader a better idea of Tom, and his way of treating his father. Tom was fond of his father, and although mischievous, and too fond of drinking when he could obtain liquor, was not disobedient or vicious. We had nearly reached Battersea Fields when they returned on deck.
“Do you know, Jacob, how the parish of Battersea came into the possession of those fields?”