pon the probable termination of
our voyage, Cape Clear was descried by the look-out on the mast-head.

"Hallo! what's that? why if it ain't land ahead, as I'm alive!" said
Mr. Slick. "Well, come this is pleasant too, we have made amost an
everlastin' short voyage of it, hante we; and I must say I like land
quite as well as sea, in a giniral way, arter all; but, Squire, here is
the first Britisher. That critter that's a clawin' up the side of the
vessel like a cat, is the pilot: now do for goodness gracious sake, jist
look at him, and hear him."

"What port?"

"Liverpool."

"Keep her up a point."

"Do you hear that, Squire? that's English, or what we used to call to
singing school short metre. The critter don't say a word, even as much
as 'by your leave'; but jist goes and takes his post, and don't ask the
name of the vessel, or pass the time o' day with the Captin. That ain't
in the bill, it tante paid for that; if it was, he'd off cap, touch
the deck three times with his forehead, and '_Slam_' like a Turk to his
Honour the Skipper.

"There's plenty of civility here to England if you pay for it: you can
buy as much in five minits, as will make you sick for a week; but if you
don't pay for it, you not only won't get it, but you get sarce instead
of it, that is if you are fool enough to stand and have it rubbed in.
They are as cold as Presbyterian charity, and mean enough to put the sun
in eclipse, are the English. They hante set up the brazen image here
to worship, but they've got a gold one, and that they do adore and no
mistake; it's all pay, pay, pay; parquisite, parquisite, parquisite;
extortion, extortion, extortion. There is a whole pack of yelpin' devils
to your heels here, for everlastinly a cringin', fawnin' and coaxin',
or snarlin', grumblin' or bullyin' you out of your money. There's the
boatman, and tide-waiter, and porter, and custom-er, and truck man as
soon as you land; and the sarvant-man, and chamber-gall, and boots, and
porter again to the inn. And then on the road, there is trunk-lifter,
and coachman, and guard, and beggar-man, and a critter that opens the
coach door, that they calls a waterman, cause he is infarnal dirty, and
never sees water. They are jist like a snarl o' snakes, their name is
legion and there ain't no eend to 'em.

"The only thing you get for nothin' here is rain and smoke, the rumatiz,
and scorny airs. If you could buy an Englishman at what he was worth,
and sell him at hi