Stop it. " "I tell 'ee what, landlord," observed the old sailor, quietly replenishing his pipe from a huge pewter tobacco-box, as the waterman and Wood quitted the house, "you've said good-b'ye to your friend. " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. “Time for my Patience,” she said. I shall not part with you again.
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