But he drew himself up to salute the two captains.
"Glad to welcome ye, Captain John, along with master here.

Hey, but you've aged--the pair o' ye." "Simeon," said his master, "draw us some beer.

Aged, you say ?" "Aye--aged, aged: a trivial, remediless complaint, common to folk.
Valiant deeds ye'll do yet, my masters; but though I likes to be hopeful, the door's closin' on ye both.

Ye be staid to the eye, noticeably staid.

The first sign o't, to be marked at forty or so, is when a woman's blush pales before wine held to the light; the second, and that, too, ye've passed--" "Hurry, you old fool! As it happens you've been proving us a pair of raw striplings." "Hee-hee," tittered the old man sardonically, and catching up the tankards trotted back to the house, with his master at his heels.
Captain Barker, left alone, rearranged his neckcloth, contemplated his crooked legs for a moment with some disgust, and began to trot up and down the grass-plot, whistling the while with great energy and no regard for tune.
The pair reappeared in the doorway--Captain Runacles bearing an hour-glass and a volume of "Purchas," and Simeon the tankards, crowned with a creamy froth.
"Have you picked your quill ?" "Yes," answered the hunchback, settling himself on top of the brown folio.