"Give us a drop o' vater, for mercy's sake.

I haven't moist'ned my chaffer this blessed day." "Half a gallon a day, bo', and no more," says a sailor next him.
"Yes, what have yer done with yer half-gallon, eh ?" asked the Crow derisively.

"Someone stole it," said the sufferer.
"He's been an' blued it," squealed someone.

"Been an' blued it to buy a Sunday veskit with! Oh, ain't he a vicked young man ?" And the speaker hid his head under the blankets, in humorous affectation of modesty.
All this time the miserable little cockney--he was a tailor by trade--had been grovelling under the feet of the Crow and his companions.
"Let me h'up, gents" he implored--"let me h'up.

I feel as if I should die--I do." "Let the gentleman up," says the humorist in the bunk.