PATCH: It "s grog beats off the melancholy. As soon as me pipes goes dry, I gets homesick fer the ocean. Here we be, Duke, thrown up at last ter rot like driftwood on the sh.o.r.e. It was "appy days when we sailed with ol" Flint on the Spanish Main.
CAPTAIN: "Appy days, Patch!
ALL: "Appy days!
(_They lift their cups in memory of a golden past. It is a contented family around the evening candle. They are as cozy as old ladies with their darning. Meg snores in peace as the curtain falls._)
_Our candles have burned to socket. Our pasteboard cabin is bare and dark. No longer do pirate flags flaunt the ghostly seas. The stormy ocean, the dizzy cliffs of Devon, melt like an unsubstantial pageant.
Let"s put away our toys--the timber leg, the patch, the frightful hook. Once again, despite the weary signpost of the years, we have run on the laughing avenues of childhood._