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"Where's Bill?" "After a little we saw a light 'way out on the lake. It stayed where it was an by an' by we heard oars. A boat landed an' a man Hinter called Cap'n, came across to where he sat by the fire." He was Mr Walter Lawrence, a son of Admiral Lawrence, and down to a recent period a lieutenant in the Royal Navy. He was something over thirty years of age, but drink, dissipation, the hard life of the sea and some fever which had got into his blood and proved intermittent, had worked in his face like time, and he might have passed for any age between thirty-five and forty-five. Nevertheless he was an extremely handsome man, of the classic Greek type in lineament, but improved, at least to the British eye, by the Saxon colouring of hair, skin, and eyes. His teeth were extraordinarily white and good for a sailor who had lived on gun-room fare in times when the ship's biscuit was flint, and the peas which rolled about in the discoloured hot water called soup, fit only for loading a blunderbuss with to shoot men dead. His eyes told their tale of drink, but they were large and fine and spirited; his light brown hair, according to the fashion of[Pg 39] the age, was combed down his back and lay in a rope-shaped tail there. He wore a wide-brimmed round hat, and his attire, a little the worse for wear, consisted of a blue coat, white waistcoat, sage-green kerseymere breeches, and, needless to say, the cravat was high and full. He stood about six feet, his figure was extremely well proportioned, and in addition to these merits his carriage had the easy elegance which the flow of the billow and the heave of the deck infuse into all human figures not radically vile and deformed. His voice was soft, winning, and somewhat plaintive, and no man, whether on or off the stage, not even Incledon, sang a song with more exquisite feeling and sweeter sincerity of passion..
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Conrad
"Ho, the schooner ahoy!" shouted a man, standing close to the larboard main-shrouds. "Faith and who else ma'am," replied Harry. "The ould burrud wid new feathers is ut. Faith ut's manny a year since I laid these duds carefully by, thinkin' I'd be wearin' 'em niver ag'in until a day whin I'd not be knowin' ut. But, Mistress Wilson, ma'am, ut's other thoughts have been mine since I quit the dhrink. Pl'ase God but duty is iver clearer wid clearer understandin' and so ut is. Some day afore I die I'll glimpse me own skies and smell the burnin' peat, and if that is to be mine thin must I live me life clane here and do me duty like an Irishman av birth. So, ma'am, it's off I am to visit the holy Father at Palmyria." "Early next month, I believe, ma'am." "Well, I'm goin' to do my duty by you both, allars," Mrs. Wilson spoke in matter-of-fact tones, as she reached for her sewing-basket. "When I feel you need checkin' up, Tom Wilson, checked you're goin' to be, an' when Willium needs a hidin' he's goin' to get a hidin'. An'," she added, as her husband got up from his chair, saying something about having to turn the horses out to pasture, "you needn't try to side-track me from my duty neither.".
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