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The Old Sea-dog at the Admiral Benbow

           Ifollowedhimin,andIrememberobservingthecontrasttheneat,brightdoctor,withhispowderaswhiteassnowandhisbright,blackeyesandpleasantmanners,madewiththecoltishcountryfolk, andaboveall,withthatfilthy,heavy,blearedscarecrowofapirateofours,sitting,fargoneinrum,withhisarmsonthetable. Suddenlyhethecaptain,thatisbegantopipeuphiseternalsong: 

           "Fifteenmenonthedeadman’schest 

           Yo-ho-ho,andabottleofrum! 

           Drinkandthedevilhaddonefortherest 

           Yo-ho-ho,andabottleofrum!" 

           AtfirstIhadsupposed"thedeadman’schest"tobethatidenticalbigboxofhisupstairsinthefrontroom, andthethoughthadbeenmingledinmynightmareswiththatoftheone-leggedseafaringman. Butbythistimewehadalllongceasedtopayanyparticularnoticetothesong; itwasnew,thatnight,tonobodybutDr.Livesey,andonhimIobserveditdidnotproduceanagreeableeffect, forhelookedupforamomentquiteangrilybeforehewentonwithhistalktooldTaylor,thegardener,onanewcurefortherheumatics. Inthemeantime,thecaptaingraduallybrightenedupathisownmusic,andatlastflappedhishanduponthetablebeforehiminawayweallknewtomeansilence. Thevoicesstoppedatonce,allbutDr.Livesey’s; hewentonasbeforespeakingclearandkindanddrawingbrisklyathispipebetweeneverywordortwo. 

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