“I should think your story was like the hills,” said Jules.
“How vash dat?”
“Made up mit a lie,” said the Frenchman, laughing and turning again to his soup.
“Den you ish von tam vool,” said Jan, in a rage. “It ish no more as vive years since I cooms from Yarmany mit a backet. I vas very pad ven I cooms avay. I vish I vash stay at home. Put it vash near spring ven I cooms avay, unt the vind drive us up north. Unt den cooms von of dese hills made up mit ice.”
“It’s true,” said Ben. “I’ve seen ’em myself off the mouth of the Columby. They call ’em icebergs.”
“Dat’s it. Dat’s the name!” said Jan. “Vell, I stands on the deck mit the packet, unt I sees it coom. I goes to the captain unt I dells him America has proke loose, unt vash cooming down on the sheep, unt would sink her. He laugh at me, unt said it vash an iceberg. Unt I vatched it very close, unt py unt py it tipped oop, unt turned auver, unt I dinks we ish gone. But it not strike the sheep.”
“Lucky fer you,” said Ben.
“Vat vash you dink auver an iceberg ash vash so pig ash it vash tip auver on the sheep, unt sink the sheep. Now I ask you not for to pelieve all dis unless you vash a mind to. You must do ash you blease. Put dis is vat I sees myself. Vat is your opinion mit dese tam icebergs?”
“Oh, they say that they break away from the hills up north and float down yer. That’s all I know.”
“Yaw. Put vat makes dem tip auver? Dat ish vat I vants to know.”