As the chaise drove up to the door of the inn, this man made an observation to the other to the following effect,—
"A-hoy!"
"Well, you lubber, what now?" cried the other.
"They call this the Nelson's Arms; and you know, shiver me, that for the best half of his life he had but one."
"D—n you!" was the only rejoinder he got for this observation; but, with that, he seemed very well satisfied.
"Heave to!" he then shouted to the postilion, who was about to drive the chaise into the yard. "Heave to, you lubberly son of a gun! we don't want to go into dock."
"Ah!" said the old man, "let's get out, Jack. This is the port; and, do you hear, and be cursed to you, let's have no swearing, d—n you, nor bad language, you lazy swab."
"Aye, aye," cried Jack; "I've not been ashore now a matter o' ten years, and not larnt a little shore-going politeness, admiral, I ain't been your walley de sham without larning a little about land reckonings. Nobody would take me for a sailor now, I'm thinking, admiral."
"Hold your noise!"
"Aye, aye, sir."