Come here and shake hands with him: d'ye hear?
Troth an' it's besmearin' ye with too much honour that same.

There, that'll do.

Don't say ye're sorry now, for it's lies ye'd be tellin' if ye did.

Come along, Martin, an' I'll convarse with ye as ye go home.
Ye'll be a man yet, as sure as my name is Barney O'Flannagan." Martin took the white kitten in his arms and thrust its wet little body into his equally wet bosom, where the warmth began soon to exercise a soothing influence on the kitten's depressed spirits, so that, ere long, it began to purr.

He then walked with the sailor towards the village, with his face black and blue, and swelled and covered with blood, while Bob Croaker and his companions returned to the school.
The distance to Martin's residence was not great, but it was sufficient to enable the voluble Irishman to recount a series of the most wonderful adventures and stories of foreign lands, that set Martin's heart on fire with desire to go to sea,--a desire which was by no means new to him, and which recurred violently every time he paid a visit to the small sea-port of Bilton, which lay about five miles to the southward of his native village.