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Updated: May 13, 2025
There he sat the Confidential Spy of modern times, whose business is steadily enlarging, whose Private Inquiry Offices are steadily on the increase. "Gently does it, old gentleman," he repeated, lifting the covers from the dishes, and looking under them one after the other all round the table. "Gently does it!" "Don't be angry with me, Jemmy," pleaded his father.
About the centre of the room, at two small tables joined together, were to be seen the party from the Yungfrau; some were drinking beer, some grog, and Jemmy Ducks was perched on the table, with his fiddle as usual held like a bass viol. He was known by those who frequented the house by the name of the Mannikin, and was a universal object of admiration and good-will.
Are you coming to your breakfast," she shouted, calling to honest Jemmy, who still sat on the hob ruminating with a kind of placid vexation over his son's extravagance "your tay's filled out!" "There let it," he replied, "I'll have none of your plash to-day; I tuck my skinful of good stiff stirabout that's worth a shipload of it. Drink it yourselves I'm no gintleman."
Remember, I am not arguing with you, as Jemmy Whistler puts it, I'm just telling you; these things are not a matter of taste, but a matter of fact, of rotten bad paint. What Royal Cortissoz wrote of the German Exhibition and of the Scandinavians when in New York fits into this space with appositeness: "... an insensitiveness to the genius of their medium.
"I'm sure I saw it!" cried he, and again made a dash with both hands into a fresh place, and began to distribute the ashes and dust and rubbish on every side, to the great merriment of all the rest. "What did you see, Jemmy?" asked old Doubleyear, in a compassionate tone. "Oh, I don't know," said the boy, "only it was like a bit of something made of real gold!"
"Sleepin'! Oh, no," replied Jemmy; "I'd give the wide world for one wink of asy sleep." "Well, aroon, here's fifteen pince for you, that we skham Will I tell him how we cot it?" "No, don't," replied his neighbors; "the boy's given to devotion, and maybe might scruple to take it." "Here's fifteen pince, avourneen, on the shovel, that we're givin' you for God's sake.
The snow-storm continued, and the men remained below, all but Jemmy Ducks, who leaned against the lee side of the cutter's mast, and, as the snow fell, sang, to a slow air, the following ditty, it probably being called to his recollection by the state of the weather.
"I can douse a glim, anyhow," cried Jemmy. "That's my darling duck," cried Moggy, delighted with this proof of her husband's vigour. Some confusion was created by this manoeuvre on the part of Jemmy, but candles were reproduced, and the first man who spoke, feeling as if this victory on the part of Jemmy was a rebuke to himself, again commenced his interrogations.
Although Jemmy Button well knew the force of our party, he was, at first, unwilling to land amidst the hostile tribe nearest to his own. He often told us how the savage Oens men "when the leaf red," crossed the mountains from the eastern coast of Tierra del Fuego, and made inroads on the natives of this part of the country.
Up they all rose, and gathered together in the centre of the room, save Jemmy Ducks, who, flourishing with his fiddle, commenced Jack's alive, and a merry dog, When he gets on shore He calls for his glass of grog, He drinks, and he calls for more. So drink, and call for what you please, Until you've had your whack, boys; We think no more of raging seas, Now that we've come back, boys.
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