Well, t'ward the end o' hes days the Commodore were stashuned out at Gibraltar, an' o' cou'se takes Sam.

He'd a-been ailin' for a tidy spell, had the Commodore, an' I reckon that place finished 'un; for he hadn' been there a month afore he tuk a chill, purty soon Sam saw 'twas on'y a matter o' time afore th' ould man wud go dead.
"Sam kep' hes maaster goin' 'pon brandy an' milk for a while; but wan day he comes in an' finds 'un settin' up in bed an' starin'.
The Commodore was a little purgy, [3] bustious [4] sort o' man, sir, wi' a squinny eye an' mottles upon hes face pretty near so thick as the Milky Way; an' he skeered Sam a bit, settin' up there an' glazin'.
"Th' ould man had no more sproil [5] nor a babby, an' had pretty nigh lost hes mouth-speech, but he beckons Sam to the bed, and whispers-- "' Sam, you've a-been a gude sarvent to me.' "'Gude maasters makes gude sarvents,' says Sam, an' falls to cryin' bitterly.
"'You'm down i' my will,' says the Commodore, 'so you've no call to take on so.

But look 'ee here, Sam; there's wan thing more I wants 'ee to do for your old maaster.

I've a-been a Wanderin' Jewel all my life,' says he, '-- wanderer 'pon the face o' the earth, like--like--' "'Cain,' says Sam.
"'Well, not azackly.

Hows'ever, you an' me, Sam, have a-been like Jan Tresize's geese, never happy unless they be where they bain't, an' that's the truth.