Split my sides , I 've a sick heart to sail with the likes of you ! '' `` Easy all , Long John , '' cried Israel . `` Who 's a-crossin ' of you ? '' `` Why , how many tall ships , think ye , now , have I seen laid aboard ? And how many brisk lads drying in the sun at Execution Dock ? '' cried Silver . `` And all for this same hurry and hurry and hurry . You hear me ? I seen a thing or two at sea , I have . If you would on ' y lay your course , and a p ` int to windward , you would ride in carriages , you would . But not you ! I know you . You 'll have your mouthful of rum tomorrow , and go hang . '' `` Everybody knowed you was a kind of a chapling , John ; but there 's others as could hand and steer as well as you , '' said Israel . `` They liked a bit o ' fun , they did . They was n't so high and dry , nohow , but took their fling , like jolly companions every one . '' `` So ? '' says Silver . `` Well , and where are they now ? Pew was that sort , and he died a beggar-man .
Flint was , and he XXXXX of rum at Savannah .
've died drying hear knowed ride said says steer took