As
soon as he popped his head into the parlour, the supposed stranger
made divers awkward bows, and with a grinning aspect accosted him
in these words: "Your most humble servant, most noble commodore!
I hope you are in good health; you look pure and hearty; and if it
was not for that misfortune of your eye, one would not desire to
see a more pleasant countenance in a summer's day. Sure as I am a
living soul, one would take you to be on this side of threescore.
Lord help us, I should have known you to be a Trunnion, if I had
met with one in the midst of Salisbury Plain, as the saying is."
The commodore, who was not at all in the humour of relishing such
an impertinent preamble, interrupted him in this place, saying,
with a peevish accent, "Pshaw! pshaw! brother, there's no occasion
to bowse out so much unnecessary gun; if you can't bring your
discourse to bear on the right subject, you had much better clap
a stopper on your tongue, and bring yourself up, d'ye see; I was
told you had something to deliver."--"Deliver!" cried the waggish
impostor, "odds heart! I have got something for you that will make
your very entrails rejoice within your body.
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