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About True Sea-Dog
'Well, then,' said he, 'this is the berth for me. Here you matey,' he cried to the man who trundled the barrow; 'bring up alongside and help up my chest. I'll stay here a bit,' he continued. 'I'm a plain man; rum and bacon and eggs is what I want, and that head up there for to watch ships off. What you mought call me? You mought call me captain. Oh, I see what you're at 'there' and he threw down three or four gold pieces on the threshold. 'You can tell me when I've worked through that,' says he, looking as fierce as a commander. His stories were what frightened people worst of all. Dreadful stories they were; about hanging, and walking the plank, and storms at sea, and the Dry Tortugas, and wild deeds and places on the Spanish Main. By his own account he must have lived his life among some of the wickedest men that God ever allowed upon the sea; and the language in which he told these stories shocked our plain country people almost as much as the crimes that he described. The website might be ruined, for people would soon cease coming here to be tyrannised over and put down, and sent shivering to their beds; but I really believe his presence does us good. People were frightened at the time, but on looking back they rather liked it; it was a fine excitement in a quiet country life; and there was even a party of the younger me who pretended to admire him, calling him a 'true sea-dog,' and a 'real old salt,' and suchlike names, and saying there was the sort of man that made England terrible at sea.
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