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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 952 pages of information about Gargantua and Pantagruel.
took to hit the pins.  Nevertheless, you offend, my sweet friend.  But what do you think of eating some kind of cabirotadoes?  Wouldn’t this secure us from this storm?  I have read that the ministers of the gods Cabiri, so much celebrated by Orpheus, Apollonius, Pherecydes, Strabo, Pausanias, and Herodotus were always secure in time of storm.  He dotes, he raves, the poor devil!  A thousand, a million, nay, a hundred million of devils seize the hornified doddipole.  Lend’s a hand here, hoh, tiger, wouldst thou?  Here, on the starboard side.  Ods-me, thou buffalo’s head stuffed with relics, what ape’s paternoster art thou muttering and chattering here between thy teeth?  That devil of a sea-calf is the cause of all this storm, and is the only man who doth not lend a helping hand.  By G—­, if I come near thee, I’ll fetch thee out by the head and ears with a vengeance, and chastise thee like any tempestative devil.  Here, mate, my lad, hold fast, till I have made a double knot.  O brave boy!  Would to heaven thou wert abbot of Talemouze, and that he that is were guardian of Croullay.  Hold, brother Ponocrates, you will hurt yourself, man.  Epistemon, prithee stand off out of the hatchway.  Methinks I saw the thunder fall there but just now.  Con the ship, so ho—­Mind your steerage.  Well said, thus, thus, steady, keep her thus, get the longboat clear —­steady.  Ods-fish, the beak-head is staved to pieces.  Grumble, devils, fart, belch, shite, a t—­d o’ the wave.  If this be weather, the devil’s a ram.  Nay, by G—­, a little more would have washed me clear away into the current.  I think all the legions of devils hold here their provincial chapter, or are polling, canvassing, and wrangling for the election of a new rector.  Starboard; well said.  Take heed; have a care of your noddle, lad, in the devil’s name.  So ho, starboard, starboard.  Be, be, be, bous, bous, bous, cried Panurge; bous, bous, be, be, be, bous, bous, I am lost.  I see neither heaven nor earth; of the four elements we have here only fire and water left.  Bou, bou, bou, bous, bous, bous.  Would it were the pleasure of the worthy divine bounty that I were at this present hour in the close at Seuille, or at Innocent’s the pastry-cook over against the painted wine-vault at Chinon, though I were to strip to my doublet, and bake the petti-pasties myself.

Honest man, could not you throw me ashore? you can do a world of good things, they say.  I give you all Salmigondinois, and my large shore full of whelks, cockles, and periwinkles, if, by your industry, I ever set foot on firm ground.  Alas, alas!  I drown.  Harkee, my friends, since we cannot get safe into port, let us come to an anchor in some road, no matter whither.  Drop all your anchors; let us be out of danger, I beseech you.  Here, honest tar, get you into the chains, and heave the lead, an’t please you.  Let us know how many fathom water we are in.  Sound, friend, in the Lord Harry’s name.  Let us know whether

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