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"Billy," Harry held his breath and blinked his red-rimmed eyes in unbelief. "Billy, ye say?" He got up with Billy's help and stood swaying unsteadily.,

"He ought'a get a taste o' the gad hisself," muttered Maurice. "An' he's goin' to be our teacher, oh, Gash! Well, I kin see where me an' Billy Wilson gets ourn—maybe.",

"Shoot?",

"By Gosh, you've hit it right on the head. That's what eddication does fer a man—makes him sharp as a razor. Yes, they're brothers an' so much alike all I've got to do is describe one of 'em an' you have 'em all."

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"She is a pretty example of the French form," said Captain Acton. "I think I told you she was built at Bordeaux, from which port some elegant structures are sent afloat. But the French cannot approach the Americans as shipbuilders. Take that schooner of mine, the Aurora—by the way, she is due here shortly. I wish she may not have been taken by the enemy.",

Of this man, a toothless salt whose face was like an old potato, dark with the weather of[Pg 34] vanished days and covered with warts, an affecting story was told: it was evening, and the room was full of seafaring men, and this man, whose name was John Halliburton, sat at the table with a long clay pipe trembling in one hand and a glass of hot rum and water in reach of the other. Several songs had been sung by members of the company, and some one, by way of a joke, asked old John to oblige. To the amazement of everybody the old man put down his pipe, took off his hat, out of which he drew a large red handkerchief with which he polished his face, and then, fixing his lustreless eyes upon the man who had asked him to sing, broke into a song in a strange, quivering, fitful note, as though you should hear a drunken sailor singing in a vault. The assembly was hushed into deep stillness. It was certainly a most unparalleled circumstance for old John to sing. In the middle of the second verse, some old nautical ballad popular fifty years before, he stopped, put his handkerchief into his hat, and his hat upon his head, and resumed his pipe, gazing vacantly at the man who had asked him to sing.,

"Seen a what, your Anner?",

Anson's blue eyes were staring at the wide unprotected window. Outside, the moon swam hazily above the forest; shadows like huge, misshapen monsters prowled on the sward; weird sounds floated up and died on the still air.