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"Put a name on what you're at; you ain't dumb, I reckon. Him that wants shall get it. Have I lived this many years, and a son of a rum-puncheon cock his hat athwart my hawse at the latter end of it? You know the way; you're all gentlemen o' fortune, by your account. Well, I'm ready. Take a cutlass, him that dares, and I'll see the colour of his inside, crutch and all, before that pipe's empty."
His body was a wine-pipe, or a rum-puncheon, or something of that character, and had a truly Falstaffian air. In its nether extremity were inserted two kegs, which seemed to answer all the purposes of legs. For arms there dangled from the upper portion of the carcass two tolerably long bottles, with the necks outward for hands.
I've seen his top-sails with these eyes, off Trinidad, and the cowardly son of a rum-puncheon that I sailed with put back put back, sir, into Port-of-Spain." "Well, I've heard of him myself, in England," said the doctor. "But the point is, had he money?" "Money!" cried the squire. "Have you heard the story? What were these villains after but money? What do they care for but money?
Before an hour's out, I'll stove in your old block-house like a rum-puncheon. Laugh, by thunder, laugh! Before an hour's out, ye'll laugh upon the other side. Them that die'll be the lucky ones."
I've seen his topsails with these eyes, off Trinidad, and the cowardly son of a rum-puncheon that I sailed with put back put back, sir, into Port of Spain." "Well, I've heard of him myself, in England," said the doctor. "But the point is, had he money?" "Money!" cried the squire. "Have you heard the story? What were these villains after but money? What do they care for but money?
As I said before, everybody has heard of me. I am that very Signora Psyche Zenobia, so justly celebrated as corresponding secretary to the "Philadelphia, Regular, Exchange, Tea, Total, Young, Belles, Lettres, Universal, Experimental, Bibliographical, Association, To, Civilize, Humanity." Dr. Moneypenny made the title for us, and says he chose it because it sounded big like an empty rum-puncheon.
I've seen his top-sails with these eyes, off Trinidad, and the cowardly son of a rum-puncheon that I sailed with put back put back, sir, into Port of Spain." "Well, I've heard of him myself, in England," said the doctor. "But the point is, had he money?" "Money!" cried the squire. "Have you heard the story? What were these villains after but money? What do they care for but money?
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