'Before you have your glass of grog, Ned, we must finish the bottle.' 'Stand by!' said Ned, filling his glass.

'Give the boy some more.' 'No more, thank'e, Uncle!' 'Yes, yes,' said Sol, 'a little more.

We'll finish the bottle, to the House, Ned--Walter's House.

Why it may be his House one of these days, in part.

Who knows?
Sir Richard Whittington married his master's daughter.' '"Turn again Whittington, Lord Mayor of London, and when you are old you will never depart from it,"' interposed the Captain.