It can't hold on to a feller when he's runnin'.

If you keep it up till you a'most split your timbers, passion has no chance.

It _must_ go a-starn.

Now, lad, I've been watchin' ye all the mornin', and I see there's a screw loose somewhere.

If you'll tell me wot it is, see if I don't help you!" The kind frank way in which this was said quite won my heart, so I sat down on the old cask, and told the sailor all my sorrows.
"Boy," said he, when I had finished, "I'll put you in the way o' helpin' your mother.