What you going to do with that boy, Mr.Scrape?
I like to know that.

You tell me, and perhaps you hear something about the shells, who know ?" The old man's face darkened into a very ugly look.
"My name is Scraper, thank ye, not Scrape!" he said, dryly; "and as for the boy, I don't know exactly where you come in there." The Skipper nodded.

"True!" he said, tracing with his finger the fine lines of the Voluta Aulica; "you do not know where I come in there.

In us both, knowledge has a limit, Mr.Scraper; yet I at the least am acquaint with your name.

It is a fine name you have there,--Endymion! You should be a person of poetry, with this and your love for shells, hein?
You love, without doubt, to gaze on the moon, Sir Scraper?
You feel with her a connection, yes ?" "What the dickens are you talking about ?" asked the old gentleman, testily.