He will thin take his foolish boat down th' bay, an' if he
keeps his health, he can rayturn to th' grocery business, f'r he's a
jolly good fellow which nobody can deny.'
"Ye can see this, Hinnissy, that yachtin' has become wan iv thl larned
pro-fissions. 'Tis that that got th' la-ad fr'm Boston into it. They's a
jolly Jack Tar f'r ye. In dhrawin' up a lease or framin' a bond, no more
gallant sailor rides th' waves thin hearty Jack Larsen iv th'
Amalgamated Copper Yacht Club. 'What ho?' says he. 'If we're goin' to
have a race,' he says, 'shiver me timbers if I don't look up th' law,'
he says. So he become a yachtsman. 'But,' says th' Noo York la-ads, thim
that has th' Cup on their mantel-piece, 'Ye can race on'y on two
conditions.' 'What ar-re they?' says Larsen. 'Th' first is that ye
become a mimber iv our club.' 'With pleasure,' says he. 'Ye can't,' says
they. 'An' havin' complied with this first condition, ye must give us
ye'er boat,' says they. 'We don't want it,' they says. 'Th' terms suit
me entirely,' says Cap. Larsen. 'I'm a simple sailor man an' I'll give
ye me boat undher th' following conditions,' he says. 'First, that ye
won't take it; second, that ye'll paint me name on th' side iv it in red
letters, three feet high; third, that ye'll inthra-jooce me to th'
Prince iv Wales; foorth, that I'll sail it mesilf.
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