"No."
"Eber heah ob sich a fix?"
"Never."
"If we gits out ob dis yeh won't neber want to try anudder sich scrape, I reckon?"
"No."
"Ye've had enough?"
"Yes."
"So has I, but dar's no use a gibbin' up so, Mistah Brown!" and then with a sudden change of manner that startled all hands, the dog included, Ike sang out in a rich tenor voice.
"Oh fust was made de sun,
An' den was made de sky,
An' den dey made de earf
An' hung it up to dry,
An' den de made de star, outer yalla gals' eyes
Foh to gib a little light
W'en de sun don't rise."