"Wish I could stock you from my place, an' I'd stuff you with 'em.

I can grow 'em 'ere for next to nothing, but they cost a heap o' money in furrin ports, an' _your_ crimson wave-catcher doesn't earn money--she eats it." "Even that's one better'n her skipper, 'oo doesn't do neether," commented Coke gloomily.
His employer seemed to find much humor in the remark.
"Gad, we both look starved!" he guffawed.

"To 'ear us, you'd think we was booked for the workhus or till you ran a tape round the contoor, eh ?" But Coke was not to be cheered.
"I can see as far into a stone wall as 'ere a one an' there a one," he said, "an' there's no use blinkin' the fax.

The _Andromeda_ was a good ship in 'er day, but that day is gone.

You ought to 'ave sold 'er to the Dutchmen five years ago, Mr.Verity.