Perhaps Pepper was a little jealous.

At any rate, he refused to go with us to the house.
Captain Nutter was at home reading the Rivermouth Barnacle.

He was a reader to do an editor's heart good; he never skipped over an advertisement, even if he had read it fifty times before.

Then the paper went the rounds of the neighborhood, among the poor people, like the single portable eye which the three blind crones passed to each other in the legend of King Acrisius.

The Captain, I repeat, was wandering in the labyrinths of the Rivermouth Barnacle when I led Sailor Ben into the sitting-room.
My grandfather, whose inborn courtesy knew no distinctions, received my nautical friend as if he had been an admiral instead of a common forecastle-hand.