"'Ow's her 'ead?" roared the tar.
"Nor'-by-east, sir," replied the Captain, with gentle emphasis on the "sir."
"Then keep her so, my man, whilst I goes forrard and has a smoke," was the startling rejoinder from the old reprobate, who calmly commenced to suit the action to the word, and disappeared up by the forecastle, lighting a match as he went.
PAT'S RETORT.
Pat has turned up again in a collection of anecdotes. Here is a specimen of his wit lately come to hand:
A one-legged Yankee orator, who had been very successfully chaffing an Irishman, was finally asked,
"Oi say, soor, how did yez lose your leg?"
"Well," replied the Yankee, "I found, when I came to look up my ancestry, that I had a little Irish blood in my veins, and becoming convinced that it had all settled in my left leg, I had it cut off at once."
"Bejabers!" cried Pat. "Phot a pity it hodn't shettled in your head!"