"Heigh-Ho-Ha-Hum Oh dear me " "What's matter, sir?" "Matter, Dirty Dick? Nothing; only, heigh-ho-ha Oh dear me, how sleepy I am " "Well, sir, I wouldn't open my mouth like that 'ere, 'fore the sun's up." "Why not?" "No knowing what you might swallow off this here nasty, cold, foggy, stony coast." "There you go again, Dick; not so good as Lincolnshire coast, I suppose?" "As good, sir? Why, how can it be?" said the broad, sturdy sailor addressed. "Nothin' but great high stony rocks, full o' beds of great flat periwinkles and whelks; nowhere to land, nothin' to see. I am surprised at you, sir. Why, there arn't a morsel o' sand."