"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. Sheppard's house, loud yells and vociferations reached his ears; and, looking downwards, he perceived a great stir amid the mob. ‘The major will tell you when to stop. But you have, haven’t you?’ He tutted again. How came you by the hurt, eh?" "How did I come by it?—that's a nate question.
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