Galloping Dick
and fingering for my hanger, “but I’m in the mind to carve your face after a private pattern of my own.” He closed with me, but, getting a clutch upon his waist, I threw him, and fell to battering on the door with the hilt of my weapon, shouting the while as one full of drink. That brought some one from the inside, and in another moment I was in the grip of a sturdy fellow on the doorstep, with my other friend handling me freely from behind.
“What the Devil’s this?” said the newcomer. “Is this our man, Cockerel?”
“No,” says t’other, puffing for breath; “’tis a scurvy tarpaulin with a libidinous body full of liquor.”
“And that’s true,” says I, lurching against ’em, and nodding my head with a foolish smile; and with that I called “Jenny” at the top of my voice, in a most endearing manner.
“Bah!” said the big officer, who seemed to be in a superior position, “push the drunken fool out.”
“No,” says I, “push the drunken fool in, young fellow.”
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