The Mysteries of London; or, Revelations of the British Metropolis — page 385: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

OF LONDON. 083 pallid and bloated face. was not at all animated by it; he merely licked his lips and growled— Good, Mr. Paddy, Good! 1 believe you, you drunken vagabond, replied ‘the captain. Have you seen enough of him, my lord ? Bembo gave a sigh of CORD ASHO 2. which he re- ceived as an aflirmation. Go to bed, you spongy gin sack ! Go to bed, my worthy comrade ; ; sleep well, and may the devil fetch you! take care not to have very bad dreams. Saunders squeezed hiniself. as best he could, between Bembo and the wall. In aminute after- wards he was snoring like a Cyclop’s bellows.— Paddy led Bembo to the table, and poured out two glasses of gin, _ My lord, said he, you have seen everything. I * drink to your lordship’s health. But all I have seen does not inform me as to the precise state of forwardness of the works, said Bembo. Paddy assumed his most dignified air, and sen- tentious mode of speech. Thunder of Heaven! exclaimed he, producing a small pieca of greasy paper covered with figures, the lines of which were not, particularly straight. As to affairs of calculation, wa sailors are not left handed. On board the sloop Herring, I have solved problems more difficult than this. Weare under the cellars, my lord, and within ten feet of the treasure. As Bembo had no means of verifying this asser- _ tion, andastime was precious, he turned his steps €omicbooks:com