de suit of blue, with a hook instead of a
hand attached to his right wrist; very bushy black eyebrows; and a thick
stick in his left hand, covered all over (like his nose) with knobs.
He wore a loose black silk handkerchief round his neck, and such a very
large coarse shirt collar, that it looked like a small sail. He was
evidently the person for whom the spare wine-glass was intended, and
evidently knew it; for having taken off his rough outer coat, and hung
up, on a particular peg behind the door, such a hard glazed hat as a
sympathetic person's head might ache at the sight of, and which left a
red rim round his own forehead as if he had been wearing a tight basin,
he brought a chair to where the clean glass was, and sat himself down
behind it. He was usually addressed as Captain, this visitor; and had
been a pilot, or a skipper, or a privateersman, or all three perhaps;
and was a very salt-looking man indeed.

His face, remarkable for a brown solidity, brightened as he shook hands
with Uncle and nephew; but he seemed to be of a laconic disposition, and
merely said:

'How goes it?'

'All well,' said Mr Gills, pushing the bottle towards him.

He took it up, and having surveyed and smelt it, said with extraordinary
expression:

'The?'

'The,' returned the Instrument-maker.

Upon that he whistled as he filled his glass, and seemed to think they
were making holiday indeed.

'Wal'r!' he said, arranging his hair (which was thin) with his hook, and
then pointing it at the Instrument-maker, 'Look at him! Love! Honour!
And Obey! Overhaul your catechism till you find that passage, and when
found turn the leaf down. Success, my boy!'

He was so perfectly satisfied both with his quotation and his reference
to it, that he could not help repeating the words again in a low voice,
and saying he had forgotten 'em these forty year.

'But I never wanted two or three words in my life that I didn't know
where to lay my hand upon 'em, Gills,' he observed. 'It comes of not
wasting language as some do.'

The reflection perhaps reminded him that he had better, like young
Norval's father, '"ncrease his store." At any rate he became silent, and
remained so, until old Sol went out into the shop to light it up, when
he turned to Walter, and said, without any introductory remark:

'I suppose he could make a clock if he tried?'

'I shouldn't wonder, Captain Cuttle,' returned the boy.

'And it would go!' said Captain Cuttle, making