The rubber's goin' outa me.

I'm kind o' languid, with all night in an' nothin' to do but sit around.

It makes me fair sick at the thought of hearin' the old gent say once again, 'I think, steward, one of those prime cocktails would be just the thing before dinner.' We'll take a little ice-machine along next voyage, an' give 'm the best.
"An' look at Kwaque, Killeny, my boy.

This ain't his climate.

He's positively ailin'.