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"'Noint my block!" he cried, when the pitiful sum was placed in his hand. "Dost think a Shrewsbury man 'll be done out of his dues by a codger of a Frenchman what he don't vally no more than pork slush or a stinking dogfish? Split my binnacle if I be!" And he flung the money at the amazed Frenchman, and kept his word to work at his old trade no more.
In the Sycamore Ridge Banner for September 12, 1867, appeared some verses by Watts McHurdie, beginning: "Hail and farewell to thee, friend of my youth, Pilgrim who seekest the Fountain of Truth, Hail and farewell to thy innocent pranks, No more can I send thee for left-handed cranks. Farewell, and a tear laves the ink on my pen, For ne'er shall I 'noint thee with strap-oil again."
He would horsewhip a fellow one day with his own royal hand, and then fling him an handful of silver groats, with his own broad face on them, to 'noint the sore withal." "Ay, rest be with him!" echoed the auditors; "it will be long ere this Lady Elizabeth horsewhip any of us." "There is no saying," answered the bailiff.
Captain Crowe was so choked with passion that he could utter nothing but disjointed sentences. He rose from his seat, brandished his horsewhip, and, seizing his nephew by the collar, cried, "Odd's heartlikins! sirrah, I have a good mind Devil fire your running tackle, you landlubber! can't you steer without all this tacking hither and thither, and the Lord knows whither? 'Noint my block!
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