Parson Twemlow keeps up my Latin, but you have forgotten all yours, my friend.

I brought you down here to see the fish come in, and to choose what you like best for dinner.

In the days when you were my smallest youngster, and as proud as Punch to dine with me, your taste was the finest in the ship, because your stomach was the weakest.

How often I thought that the fish would eat you! and but for your wonderful spirit, my friend, that must have happened long ago.

But your nature was to fight, and you fought through, as you always do.