I'm getting an old 'un now, and it wouldn't matter so much about me, though I have made up my mind to live to 'bout a hunderd.
I'm a-thinking about you two lads, as is only sixteen or so." "Vince is only fifteen," said Mike quickly, as if snatching at the chance of proving his seniority.
"On'y fifteen!" cried the old man.

"Think o' that now--on'y fifteen and you sixteen, which means as you've both got 'bout seventy or eighty years more to live if you behave yourselves." "Oh, gently!" cried Mike; but Vince did not speak.
"And do you think I'm a-going to cut your young lives short all that much?
Nay.

My name's Joe Daygo, and I'm English, and I won't do that.
If I'd been what you two young fellows said--a Spannle--it might be different, but it arn't.

There--let's get back; and one on you can have the lobster, and t'other the Dory and mullet." "Then you won't take us round by the Scraw ?" "Right, my lad; I won't." "Then I tell you what: Vince Burnet and I'll get a boat, and have a look for ourselves.

You're not afraid of things catching hold of the keel, are you, Cinder ?" "No," said the lad quietly, "I don't think I am." "Well, I've warned you both; so don't you blame me if you don't come back," growled the old man.
"Why, how can we if we don't come back ?" cried Mike merrily.
The old man shook his head, and sat gazing straight before him from under his shaggy brows, steering carefully, as the boat now had to make zigzag tacks among the rocks which dotted the surface away from the cliffs.