"What's to be done, Short?"
"Nothing," replied Short.
"Just my idea," replied Coble; "let him come to if he pleases, or die
and be d----d. Who cares?"
"Nobody," replied Short.
"My eyes, but he must have been frightened," said Smallbones; "for he
has left the key in the cupboard. I'll see what's in it for once
and away."
Snarleyyow, when Smallbones opened the cupboard, appeared to have an
intuitive idea that he was trespassing, so he walked out growling from
under the table; Short saluted him with a kick in the ribs, which tossed
him under the feet of Coble, who gave him a second with his fisherman's
boots, and the dog howled, and ran out of the cabin. O Mr Vanslyperken!
see what your favourite was brought to, because you did not come to.
At this time Smallbones had his nose in the stone jar of scheedam--the
olfactory examination was favourable, so he put his mouth to it--the
labial essay still more so, so he took down a wine glass, and, without
any ceremony, filled a bumper, and handed it to Coble.
"We'll drink to his recovery," said Obadiah, tossing off the contents.
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