"It must look sharp then, or I shall give it the slip," laughed Ben: "the gale never yet blowed as could perwent my crossing the Thames. He stepped back further. I will not be sent away. And then as we went down you’d try to explain. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night.
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