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Though he had been some years at sea, he had never contrived to learn anything about nautical affairs; and one day, in Malta harbour, he went on board a large merchantman, which happened to be brought up at no great distance from his ship, and was going below before he discovered that he had got into the wrong box. The assistant-surgeon, O'Farrall, was an Irishman, and much more of a character.
Well, we'll never know now. And here's Mrs. O'Farrall come to pass the time of day Good-by, Kid, so-long, pass the word around. Good luck love and best wishes to Half-past! Mrs. O'Farrall, your kitchen extends under the sidewalk; the more negotiable of your delicatessen are cooked on city property." "And 'twill be me ruin to have it found out. What I came for "
"Was to find out what I'm going to do about it. Well, the law that you're breaking isn't hurting the city a bit, Mrs. O'Farrall I wish I could say the same for your biscuits. If you're reported, come to me and I'll see you through. How's Morgan the day?" "The same as to-morrow, thank ye kindly dhrunk and philanderin'." "I'll send him a pledge to sign with my compliments, Mrs.
O'Farrall, and a good job at the same time." "He'll never sign the pledge." "Not if I ask him to, Mrs. O'Farrall, ask him on bended knee?" Mrs. O'Farrall looked frightened, apoplectic, and confused. Blizzard lifted his heavy eyebrows, then a smile began to brighten his face. "Mrs. O'Farrall," said he, "blessings on your old red face!
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