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"I've been shen' for, La'y Walsh Walse Walsing ham; old Jack Amerald he likshe his glass o' port," he said roguishly, "and shuvversh accord'n'ly," he continued, with a compassionating paddle of his right hand; "one of thoshe aw odd feels in his stomach; and as I have pretty well done all I can man-n'ge down here, I must be off, ye shee.

I'm thankful dear knows, I am thankful we're all to ourselves!" Jack Amerald put his foot on the floor, leaving his wooden leg in its horizontal position, and looked round a little curiously. "Well, if it wasn't him, it was some one else. I'm sure it happened up at Mardykes.

"And no wonder, if all's true I've heard," cried old Jack Amerald. "Didn't he drown a woman and her child in the lake?" "Hollo! my dear boy, don't let them hear you say that; you're all in the clouds." "By Jen!" exclaimed the landlord after an alarmed silence, with his mouth and eyes open, and his pipe in his hand, "why, sir, I pay rent for the house up there.

Old Jack Amerald, an ex-captain of the navy, with his short stout leg on a chair, and its wooden companion beside it, sipped his grog, and bawled in the old-fashioned navy way, and called his friends his 'hearties. In the middle, opposite the hearth, sat deaf Tom Hollar, always placid, and smoked his pipe, looking serenely at the fire.

"Don't be too sure we haven't Sir Bale on board," said Amerald, who would have followed his crony the Doctor to the door for never was retired naval hero of a village more curious than he were it not that his wooden leg made a distinct pounding on the floor that was inimical, as experience had taught him, to mystery.