I can live.

When I leave my Uncle, I leave him to you; and I can leave him to no one better, Captain Cuttle.

I haven't told you all this because I despair, not I; it's to convince you that I can't pick and choose in Dombey's House, and that where I am sent, there I must go, and what I am offered, that I must take.

It's better for my Uncle that I should be sent away; for Mr Dombey is a valuable friend to him, as he proved himself, you know when, Captain Cuttle; and I am persuaded he won't be less valuable when he hasn't me there, every day, to awaken his dislike.
So hurrah for the West Indies, Captain Cuttle! How does that tune go that the sailors sing?
'For the Port of Barbados, Boys! Cheerily! Leaving old England behind us, Boys! Cheerily!' Here the Captain roared in chorus-- 'Oh cheerily, cheerily! Oh cheer-i-ly!' The last line reaching the quick ears of an ardent skipper not quite sober, who lodged opposite, and who instantly sprung out of bed, threw up his window, and joined in, across the street, at the top of his voice, produced a fine effect.

When it was impossible to sustain the concluding note any longer, the skipper bellowed forth a terrific 'ahoy!' intended in part as a friendly greeting, and in part to show that he was not at all breathed.