"Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. After a long fifteen seconds, she pulled her head back into the seat, looking at his face from the close angle, his nose huge and out of perspective, his eyes like round blue pearls. " "Never mind," said the old sailor, taking up a piece of blazing coal with the tongs, and applying it to his pipe; "let 'em try. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour.
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