human
Pickle me in a tin box full o' oil fur a bloomin' sardine ef this here ain't the werry identical kind o' day wot it happened on. I were in Calcutter, w'ich the same it ain't no sort o' place at all. I landed there from a consid'able v'yage, an' had five hundred dollars a-comin' to me, an' I got 'em, too. So I laid out to have a good time in Calcutter. I staid there a month, an' at the end o' that interestin' period I didn't have nothin' left o' my five hundred 'cept a linen duster an' a black eye.
gpt
Why, how was that?
human
My son, said the Old Sailor, solemnly,
gpt
In Calcutta, sir,