She spoke hopefully, and said: "'Tisn't as if he was one of your faint-hearted ones as meet death half-way.

Why, the second day, when he could scarce speak, he sees me crying by the bed, and says he, almost in a whisper, 'What are _you_ crying for ?' 'Sir,' says I, ''tis for you--to see you lie like a ghost.' 'Then you be wasting of salt-water,' says he.

'I wish I may, sir,' says I.So then he raised himself up a little bit.

'Look at me,' says he; 'I'm a Bassett.

I am not the breed to die for a crack on the skull, and leave you all to the mercy of them that would have no mercy'-- which he meant you, I suppose.