You don't know no better, o' course; but I've give you the facts, hereafter an' evermore to be remembered.

Ben Ireson weren't no sech kind o' man as Whittier makes aout; my father he knew him well, before an' after that business, an' you beware o' hasty jedgments, young feller.

Next!" Harvey had never heard Disko talk so long, and collapsed with burning cheeks; but, as Dan said promptly, a boy could only learn what he was taught at school, and life was too short to keep track of every lie along the coast.
Then Manuel touched the jangling, jarring little machette to a queer tune, and sang something in Portuguese about "Nina, innocente!" ending with a full-handed sweep that brought the song up with a jerk.

Then Disko obliged with his second song, to an old-fashioned creaky tune, and all joined in the chorus.

This is one stanza: "Now Aprile is over and melted the snow, And outer Noo Bedford we shortly must tow; Yes, out o' Noo Bedford we shortly must clear, We're the whalers that never see wheat in the ear." Here the fiddle went very softly for a while by itself, and then: "Wheat-in-the-ear, my true-love's posy blowin, Wheat-in-the-ear, we're goin' off to sea; Wheat-in-the-ear, I left you fit for sowin, When I come back a loaf o' bread you'll be!" That made Harvey almost weep, though he could not tell why.