In a little we heard the squeaking of a pig in the street, and our
friend Shingle's voice high in oath. I sallied forth to see the cause of
the uproar, and found our host engaged in single combat with a drawn
sword--stick that sparkled blue and bright in the moonbeam, his
antagonist being a strong porker that he had taken for a town guard, and
had hemmed into a corner formed by the stair and the garden wall, which,
on being pressed, made a dash between his spindleshanks, and fairly
capsized him into my arms. I carried him back to his couch again; and,
thinking it was high time to be off, as I saw that Smoothpate, and
Steady, and Nicodemus, and the more composed part of the company, had
already absconded, I seized my hat, and made sail in the direction of
the former's house, where I was to sleep, when that devil Longtram made
up to me.
"Hillo, my little man of war--heave--to a bit, and take me with you.
Why what is that? what the deuce is that?" We were at this time
staggering along under the dark piazza of a long line of low wooden
houses, every now and then thundering against the thin boards or
bulkheads that constituted the side next the street, making, as we could
distinctly hear, the inmates start and snort in the inside, as they
turned themselves in their beds. In the darkest part of the piazza,
there was the figure of a man in the attitude of a telescope levelled on
its stand, with its head, as it were, counter--sunk or morticed into the
wooden partition.
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