A little paint, sir, you cannot refuse." "The ship has no paint to spare," he said; "you must get along without it." "Sir, every rain gives me a soaking; Cape Horn is at hand--six brushes-full would make it waterproof; and no longer would I be in peril of my life!" "Can't help it, sir; depart!" I fear it will not be well with me in the end; for if my own sins are to be forgiven only as I forgive that hard-hearted and unimpressible First Lieutenant, then pardon there is none for me.
What! when but one dab of paint would make a man of a ghost, and it Mackintosh of a herring-net--to refuse it I am full.

I can say no more..