He wants his hack in this picture.

Wants it where the cannon is.

I got around that difficulty, by telling him the cannon's our trademark, so to speak--proves that the picture's our work, and I was afraid if we left it out people wouldn't know for certain if it was a Saltmarsh--Handel--now you wouldn't yourself--" "What, Captain?
You wrong yourself, indeed you do.

Anyone who has once seen a genuine Saltmarsh-Handel is safe from imposture forever.

Strip it, flay it, skin it out of every detail but the bare color and expression, and that man will still recognize it--still stop to worship--" "Oh, how it makes me feel to hear dose oxpressions!--" -- "still say to himself again as he had, said a hundred times before, the art of the Saltmarsh-Handel is an art apart, there is nothing in the heavens above or in the earth beneath that resembles it,--" "Py chiminy, nur horen Sie einmal! In my life day haf I never heard so brecious worts." "So I talked him out of the hack, Mr.Tracy, and he let up on that, and said put in a hearse, then--because he's chief mate of a hearse but don't own it--stands a watch for wages, you know.