Grog. What do you snivel for?
Stern. What a dog am I to use a man ill, and now be obliged to him for a meal’s meat.
Grog. Then you own you’ve used me ill! Ask my pardon.
Stern. I’ll be d—d if I do.
Grog. Then take it without asking. You’re cursed saucy, but you’re a good seaman; and hark ye, Sam, the brave man, though he scorns the fear of punishment, is always afraid to deserve it. Come, when you’ve stowed your bread-room, a bowl of punch shall again set friendship afloat. (Shake hands.)
Stern. Oh, I’m a lubber!
Grog. Avast! Swab the spray from your bows! poor fellow! don’t heed, my soul! whilst you’ve the heart of a lion, never be ashamed of the feelings of a man.
John O’Keeffe.
BULLS.
In a speech on the threatened French invasion into Ireland, made, like the rest, in the Irish House of Commons, Sir Boyle Roche said—