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What I Heard in the Apple Barrel

WhenDickreturned,oneafteranotherofthetriotookthepannikinanddrank—one"Toluck,"anotherwitha"Here’stooldFlint,"andSilverhimselfsaying,inakindofsong,"Here’stoourselves,andholdyourluff,plentyofprizesandplentyofduff."

Justthenasortofbrightnessfelluponmeinthebarrel,andlookingup,Ifoundthemoonhadrisenandwassilveringthemizzen-topandshiningwhiteontheluffofthefore-sail;andalmostatthesametimethevoiceofthelookoutshouted,"Landho!"