Treasure Island

I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding to the inn door, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow — a tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man, his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulder of his soiled blue coat. He looked round the cove and up at our signboard, and then broke out in that old sea-song that he sang so often afterwards: 'Fifteen men on the dead man's chest — Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!'