English demo excerpt narrating
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British (General)Transcript
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I remember him as if it were yesterday as he came plodding to the indoor hiss sea chest following behind him in a hand barrow, a tall, strong, heavy man, his Terry pigtail falling over the shoulder. Here was soiled blue coats, his hands ragged in scarred with black, broken nails on the sabre, cut across one cheek, a dirty, livid white. I remember him looking around the cover and whistling to himself as he did so and then breaking out in the Cold Sea song that he sang so often. 50 men on the dead man's chest, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum in that heil touching voice that seemed to have been tuned and broken at the capstan bars. Then he rapped on the door with a bit of a stick like a hand spike that he carried on when my father appeared, called roughly for a glass of rum. This when it was brought to him, he drank slowly, like a connoisseur, lingering on the taste and still looking about him at the cliffs and up our sign board. This is a Handy Cove, says Hey, at length on a pleasant city ated grog shop. Much company mate, my father told him no very little company. This was more the pity