On seeing us, he seized a hand of each, and exclaimed, ‘Oh, my eyes! Joe and Bill! how are ye, my hearties? what has brought you to Greenock; be you looking out for a berth?’ We were expressing our pleasure at having met him, when he said, ‘Don’t be standing here in the street. Let’s go and get a glass of grog.’ We remarked, that it would look very odd for boys like us to go into a tavern and call for liquor; but Tom thought that a very foolish objection, and leading the way into a tavern, we followed him. As he walked in before us, I perceived that he had altered his manner of walking quite to the rocking gait of the veteran tar. I certainly thought that Tom had been an apt scholar; he seemed to be as finished a sailor as if he had been twenty years at sea. From being a boy of few words, he had acquired a surprising volubility of tongue, along with an affected English accent. He could curse and swear, chew tobacco and drink grog; and although we perceived much affectation in what Tom said and did, still we were disposed to think him a very clever fellow. When seated over our grog, we disclosed our minds to him, and inquired if he could assist us in getting a vessel. Tom looked rather grave on this subject, and sinking his voice from the high English accent he had acquired so rapidly, said he was not sure whether he could get a vessel for us or not; ‘but,’ said he, ‘in the mean time drink your grog, and we will see about that after.’ Warmed by the liquor, Tom began and gave us an account of his voyage, which, as he afterwards owned, he painted in very extravagant colours. We were so charmed with his description, that we gave up all idea of going home, and adjourned from the tavern to Tom’s lodgings, where he displayed to our wondering eyes the treasures he had acquired by his West India voyage—conch shells, cocoa nut, and stalks of Indian corn, which were designed to grace his mother’s chimney-piece, and excite the wonder of her visitors.