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ge," observed Tom, who was blowing up the fire. "May be, Tom, as a judge a'ter dinner; but a judge on the bench be one thing, and a judge over a bottle be another, and not bad judges in that way either. At all events, if you warn't _sewed up_, it wasn't your fault." "And I suppose," replied Tom, "it was only your misfortune that you were." "No, I don't say that; but still, when I look at the dog, who's but a beast by nature, and thinks of myself, who wasn't meant to be a beast, why, I blushes, that's all." "Jacob, look at father--now, does he blush?" cried Tom. "I can't say that I perceive it," replied I, smiling. "Well, then, if I don't it's the fault of my having no legs. I'm sure when they were knocked off I lost half the blood in my body, and that's the reason, I suppose. At all events, I meant to blush, so we'll take the will for the deed." "But do you mean to keep sober in future, father?" said Tom. "Never do you mind that--mind your own business, Mr Tom. At all events, I sha'n't get tipsy till next time, and that's all I can say with safety, 'cause, d'ye see, I knows my failing. Jacob, did you ever see that old gentleman sail too close to the wind before?" "I never did--I do not think that he was ever tipsy before last night." "Then I pities him--his headache, and his repentance. Moreover, there be his nose and the swallow-tail of his coat to make him unhappy. We shall be down abreast of the Hospital in half-an-hour. Suppose you go and give him a shake, Jacob. Not you, Tom; I won't trust you--you'll be doing him a mischief; you haven't got no fellow-feeling, not even for dumb brutes." "I'll thank you not to take away my character that way, father," replied Tom. "Didn't I put you to bed last night when you were speechless?" "Suppose you did--what then?" "Why, then, I had a feeling for a dumb brute. I only say that, father, for the joke of it, you know," continued Tom, going up to his father and patting his rough cheek. "I know that, my boy; you never were unkind, that's sartain; but you must have your joke-- "Merry thoughts are link'd with laughter, Why should we bury them? Sighs and tears may come hereafter, No need to hurry them. They who through a spying-glass, View the minutes as they pass, Make the sun a gloomy mass, But the fault's their own, Tom." In the meantime I was vainly attempting to rouse the Dominie. After many fruitless attempts,
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