"In Liverpool?"
"Well, say Swansea or Cardiff; practically the same thing."
"No worth money here?"
"I'd sell you a ton for a fill of tobacco."
"How you get it to coast? You no fit to pay carriers."
"By water, my pagan friend. We make steamah lib for here."
"Steamah no fit," said the Krooboy, and spat contemptuously into the yellow stream. "Dem cappies no savvy way here. Dem ribber no savvy way to Coast."
"That's a bit beyond my linguistic powers. You must translate some more."
"Dem ribber," the Krooboy explained patiently, "no fit for run to dem sea."
"Then where the deuce does it run to? Does a Ju-ju drink it?"