Why do you not try it?
Those boys are making her die an evil death." "Bastianello always has such thoughts!" laughed the sailor.

"Why does he not buy her of me and paint her himself?
The paint would hold her together another six months, I daresay." "Give her to me," said Ruggiero.

"I will give you half of what I earn with her." Black Rag looked at him and laughed, not believing that he was in earnest.

But Ruggiero slowly nodded his head as though to conclude a bargain.
"I will sell her to you," said the sailor at last.

"She belonged to that blessed soul, my brother, who was drowned--health to us--to-day is Saturday--and I never earned anything with her since she was mine.