(B.B.—Loquitor—Oysters oh! prime rock oysters! "Here you are my fine fellows, take your wages out of them. 'Eh Quaker', she'll float yet d—me if she won't."
Sailor (advancing).—"A small bit o'bacca please yer honor."
B.B.—"To be sure my boy—here—a pound,—only 7s. 6d.—all right, 'Eh Quaker'
Q.--"The Spirit ------
B. B.--" 'Tis here Phelpy--here in the quart; you don't smoke by the bye. The copper--the copper my boy--the bolts--the--the--d----me its a RARE spec.)