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Updated: June 22, 2025
She was masked; yet the grey eyes seemed to gleam beyond the velvet, much as that woman's eyes had gleamed. Her mouth; her chin; the general poise of her body, all convinced me. She was the woman who had carried away the book from Longshore Jack. I was quite sure of it. I pretended not to understand her.
'Sink me if I like going back without a blow struck, he growled. 'Yet if it is your will there is an end of the matter. Tell me, lad. Has that lank-sparred, slab-sided, herring-gutted friend of yours played you false? for if he has, by the eternal, old as I am, my hanger shall scrape acquaintance with the longshore tuck which hangs at his girdle.
It surprised him therefore to find how strongly this commonplace, 'longshore spot appealed to his imagination. He liked it and wondered why. Of course the liking might come from the contrast between the rest and freedom he was now experiencing and the fevered chase led him at the mountain hotel where Mrs. Worth Buckley and her lion-hunting sisters had their habitat.
The boat was there before the captain, and as he was so long in coming the boat's crew went for a walk ashore. The great man came down and had to wait a few minutes for his men. This caused him to become abusive, which the oldest apprentice, James Leigh, resented by using some longshore adjectives.
"Why, Jane, my woman," Sam indignantly rejoined; "your brains must all be a wool-gathering! Catch me and the lad agoing by that longshore schreechin', smokin', ramshacklin' fire engine, when we can ha' a boat's sound plank under our foot, and sail over the sea in a nat'ral sort o' way, such as we're born to!
Zebedee took the hint and the dime. He was no "slow coach" if he was longshore bred. He got the chance of carrying another heavy basket of clothes out to the lines for Sheila, who rewarded him with a smile, and then he nodded to the old man as he left. "I'll bring that snuff myself, Cap'n Ira," he assured him.
"Pray, my good Goble, why all this fol-de-rol about admitting a gentleman to your house?" I scarce know which was the more astonished, the landlord, John Paul, or I. Goble bowed at the speaker. "A gentleman, your honour!" he gasped. "Your honour is joking again. Surely this trumpery Scotchman in Jews' finery is no gentleman, nor the longshore lout he has got with him. They may go to the 'Swan."
"This is not a 'longshore tavern." "No, ma'am." "Then why not come to the point?" "The point, ma'am well, the point is that every one that is to say, every seaman has heard tell of treasure knocking about, as you might put it, somewhere in the Gulf of Honduras." "What sort of treasure?" "Why, as to that, ma'am, it varies with the story.
As he made his way to the fateful wharf, still deserted except by an occasional "wharf-rat," as the longshore vagrant or petty thief was called, he wondered at his own temerity of last night, and the trustfulness of his friend in yielding up his portmanteau to a stranger in such a place.
He represents the Jewish element; and what that element was at Rome M. Renan takes great pains to put before us. He draws an elaborate picture of the Jews and Jewish quarter of Rome a "longshore population" of beggars and pedlars, with a Ghetto resembling the Alsatia of The Fortunes of Nigel, seething with dirt and fanaticism. These were St.
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