that I was a cripple, mostly contrived to possess himself of my
pocket-money, I had no hesitation in exclaiming,

'Why, Tom, you know you're drunk, you silly old fool!'

At this Tom turned his mournful and reproachful gaze upon me, and
began to weep anew. Then he turned and addressed the sea, uplifting
his hand in oratorical fashion:--

'Here's a young gentleman as I've been more than a father to--yes,
more than a father to--for when did his own father ever give him a
ferret-eyed rabbit, a real ferret-eyed rabbit thoroughbred?'

'Why, I gave you one of my five-shilling pieces for it,' said I; 'and
the rabbit was in a consumption and died in three weeks.'

But Tom still addressed the sea.

'When did his own father give him,' said he, 'the longest thigh-bone
that the sea ever washed out of Raxton churchyard?'

'Why, I gave you _two_ of my five-shilling pieces for
_that_,' said I, 'and next day you went and borrowed the bone,
and sold it over again to Dr. Munro for a quart of beer.'


'When did his own father _give_ him a beautiful skull for a
money-box, and make an oak lid to it, and keep it for him because his
mother wouldn't have it in the house?'