“Vat I peen eating?” cried Jan, in great alarm. “Off you vash not dell me now, dis very dime, vat it vas, I vill raise my hand oop unt let it fall on your cophf (cope), unt it vill kill you!”
“It was something you said to-day you would not eat if you were starving.”
“Snakes!” screamed Jan, starting to his feet, with both hands pressed on his stomach.
“No, not so bad as that,” said Jules. “It was frog soup.”
Jan sat down again to consider over the matter. For full five minutes he neither moved nor spoke, but sat with his head resting on his hand. At last he looked up.
“Pring me dat pan,” he said.
Ben reached over to where the pan stood and handed it to him. He took up his spoon and devoured all that was left, not deigning a word to the repeated demands of Jules that he should leave a little for him. His jaws never ceased their action until he had deposited the whole in his cavernous stomach.
“Dere,” he said. “I veels petter. Unt so dat ish vrog, eh?”
“I should think so,” said Jules. “You old cormorant!”
“Vat ish dat?”