pitying leer; but "Dick the Ranter" and "Four-Eyes" were overcome with laughter, and roared until the ship echoed.
"Houly Moses, it's a fine picture ye are, my beauty," said the mate; "and if oi'll be scraping ye down with a shovel, it's yer own fayther wouldn't know ye, so clane ye'll be."
"To the which I would add, man," said Dick, "that if ye'd let yersel' drip into the lubricators you'd be worth siller to us; not to say onything o' the discoorse I micht verra weel preach on Satan from yer present appearance."
The banter turned the man from his more meaning purpose. He stood gibbering for a moment, while the crowd pressed on him with gibes and jeers; but he had his revenge, after all, for there was a tar-bucket at the foot of the upper-deck ladder, and with this he armed himself. The brush was well-charged and dripping, the tar yet liquid, the Scotsman's face was all-inviting. With a fierce shout the enraged man went to the attack, and painted his lantern-jawed opponent merrily. In less time than I can tell of it, the Ranter dripped from head to foot; the black stuff poured from his hemp-like hair, from his ears; it oozed down his neck, it even ran through to his boots; and when his enemy could no longer wield the brush from fatigue, he emptied the bucket on the man's head as a last triumphant vindication of his strength.
