Well, Samm'dear...no sense in yer peekin' through the winders...we've not seen the likes o'ye in a lang time, so swagger on o'er there, wouthern whaler or no an' I'll make sure the swabbin's been done afore ye can get there. As to any buiks gettin' open'd...there'll be some Stevenson, Kipling, an' other guidbooks, but I hain't stoning any deck with 'em tho' if I had tha blarneystone ye've been kissin'...despite your protestayshuns, I know it'd get thicker in there than the densest fog ye ever come across!

As to eyes, aye, I like 'em fine, but not those cold, still fishies ones! Giv' me the creeps, they do, never blinking, can't tell if they like a body er not, even! Why I'd ruther hold hands with a starfish than look a cod in tha eye!