Yet with sorrow I must say that the seaman's religion appeared to have all worked into his skin, so that very little was left for inner use.

It had broken out upon the surface, like the spotted fever, but his system was clear of it elsewhere.

He could swear in eleven languages and three-and-twenty dialects, nor did he ever let his great powers rust for want of practice.

He would swear when he was happy or when he was sad, when he was angry or when he was loving, but this swearing was so mere a trick of speech, without malice or bitterness, that even my father could hardly deal harshly with the sinner.

As time passed, however, the old man grew more sober and more thoughtful, until in his latter days he went back to the simple beliefs of his childhood, and learned to fight the devil with the same steady courage with which he had faced the enemies of his country.
Old Solomon was a never-failing source of amusement and of interest to my friend Lockarby and myself.