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Updated: May 25, 2025
'Jolly sort of lodgings, said Mark, rubbing his nose with the knob at the end of the fire-shovel, and looking round the poor chamber; 'that's a comfort. The rain's come through the roof too. That an't bad. A lively old bedstead, I'll be bound; popilated by lots of wampires, no doubt. Come! my spirits is a-getting up again. An uncommon ragged nightcap this. A very good sign. We shall do yet!
"Well, they would not dare to play false." "Not while there was a British man-o'-war in the harbour; but nothing short of that would prevent the villains doing any thing they liked with me. They would go through the mockery of a trial with me, and I should be condemned to death beforehand." "The wampires." "Wuss wuss, nor wampires, Joe," said the other sailor, wagging his head gravely.
"Oh!" says he, "if you should ever happen to go to bed there you MAY, you know," he says, "in course of time as civilisation progresses don't forget to take a axe with you." I looks at him tolerable hard. "Fleas?" says I. "And more," says he. "Wampires?" says I. "And more," says he. "Musquitoes, perhaps?" says I. "And more," says he. "What more?" says I. "Snakes more," says he; "rattle-snakes.
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