"I owe you one for that, and am ready to pay
you on demand. You've a pipe like a missel thrush."
"Well, I do believe that I shall begin to sing again," replied Nancy.
"I'm sure if Corbett was only once settled on shore in a nice little
cottage, with a garden, and a blackbird in a wicker cage, I should try
who could sing most, the bird or me."
"He will be by-and-bye, when his work is done."
"Yes, when it is; but open boats, stormy seas, and the halter, are
heavy odds, Mr Salisbury."
"Don't mention the halter, Mistress Nancy, you'll make me melancholy,"
replied Jemmy, "and I sha'n't be able to sing any more. Well, if they
want to hang me, they need not rig the yard-arm, three handspikes as
sheers, and I shouldn't find soundings, heh! Moggy?"
Nancy laughed at the ludicrous idea; but Moggy exclaimed with vehemence,
"Hang my Jemmy! my darling duck! I should like to see them."
"At all events, we'll have another song from him, Moggy, before they
spoil his windpipe, which, I must say, would be a great pity; but Moggy,
there have been better men hung than your husband."
"Better men than my Jemmy, Mrs Corbett! There never was one like him
afore or since;" replied Moggy, with indignation.
Pages:
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363