Beadle's Dime Novels No. 87: On the Deep — page 82: what you’re looking at

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

84 ON THE DEEP Spreading rapidly, they soon covered every part of the doomed vessel, so that she looked like a floating pyramid of fire. The ‘red glare of the conflagration, quivering upon the sky, and far along the waves, formed a singular contrast'to the soft and peaceful radiance of the moon. ‘The fore-shrouds of the ship were alive with spectators, among whom, the green glasses of Professor Quill, shining in the Teflected light of the burn- ‘ing vessel, were so CONSPICUOUS as to attract considerable at- tention. i“ My. eyes, Bill,” remarked ‘one of the men to a shipmate, “that ’ere’s the oddest lookin’ lubber I ever did see, I won- der where he hails from ?” : ' “ Don’t mow,” replied Bill, “ but his chum told me that he has lots of l’arnin’——enough to sink a seventy-four.” “Ay, ay, now, blast me, but I theught so!” exclaimed the other, “ them that wears goggles always has Parnin’. I never knowed it to fail, ‘yet.”” “ Dear me !” Bjaculated the professor, at. this juncture, what ‘a beautiful pyrotechnical display. I must describe it in my journal.” Bill and his chum exchanged glances, and nodded. “Did you hear that, Tom?’ whispered the former, “did you hear that? There’s'l’arnin’ for you—pyrotacknuckle !" “Ay, ay, he’s got the dictionary at his fingers’ ends—he has,” answered Tom. “ And it’s as well, mate,” he added, solemnly, “for sich chaps as us not to be a-trying to repeat them big words after him.” “Why not? “That’s the way to reqtire Yarnin’ ourselves.” Tom put one of his fingers upon the tip OF his: nose, and eyed his chum mysteriously. “There was once upon a time,” he whispered, “ that my ideas was similar to your’n ; but, that time’s passed and gone, and it happened this way: When I was a-cruising in the. Bombay, Captain Jenks, d’ye see, we had a chap named Munk, for a shipmate, that was famous for his .’arnin’, and another chap named Tom Tackle that wasn’t; a chap he was © whose ignoramus was parfectly wonderful. Being quite anxious-like, hows’ever, to require T’arnin’, ‘he used to get Munk to speak long words for him, and he'd speak ’em after him. Well, mate, one day Munk gets off a mighty long word a connicloooks.com