We was about a month out from Sydney when old Thomas took sick. Bill
Hicks said that it was owing to a ha'penny he couldn't account for; but
Walter Jones, whose family was always ill, and thought 'e knew a lot
about it, said that 'e knew wot it was, but 'e couldn't remember the name
of it, and that when we got to London and Thomas saw a doctor, we should
see as 'ow 'e was right.

Whatever it was the old man got worse and worse. The skipper came down
and gave 'im some physic and looked at 'is tongue, and then 'e looked at
our tongues to see wot the difference was. Then 'e left the cook in
charge of 'im and went off.

The next day Thomas was worse, and it was soon clear to everybody but 'im
that 'e was slipping 'is cable. He wouldn't believe it at first, though
the cook told 'im, Bill Hicks told him, and Walter Jones 'ad a
grandfather that went off in just the same way.

"I'm not going to die," says Thomas "How can I die and leave all that
money?"

"It'll be good for your relations, Thomas," says Walter Jones.

"I ain't got any," says the old man.

"Well, your friends, then, Thomas," says Walter, soft-like.

"Ain't got any," says the old man ag'in.

"Yes, you 'ave, Thomas," says Walter, with a kind smile; "I could tell