"'This here world's a wolf's world,' says he, with his teeth bared. 'An', damme, I got enough t' do t' fend for myself!'
"'Skipper Davy,' says I, 'you go t' hell!'
"'Twas the first oath ever I uttered with intention. An' I ran straightway t' Billy Tot's cottage—t' cure the taste o' the thing on my lips—an' t' ease the grief in my heart—an' t' find some new store o' faith for my soul. An' I kissed Bessie Tot fair on her rosy check in the middle o' the kitchen floor without carin' a jot who seed me."
It was the end of the yarn of Davy Junk, of Dirty-Face Bight; but Skipper Jim, of the Quick as Wink, being of a curious turn, presently inquired:
"What become o' Davy?"
"Lost with the Word o' the Lord," Tumm replied, "with all hands aboard."
"Went down in wreck," the skipper observed, "an' left nothin' but a tale."
"A tale with a moral," said I.
"Ay, an' t' be sure!" Skipper Jim agreed. "Davy Junk left a tale—with a moral."
"Damme!" Tumm exploded, "'tis as much as most men leaves!"