He wheeled round and stared dumbly at the weak faced one, who looked at a complete loss, but managed to stammer simperingly that it was a part of the United States.
“UH.” The hippopotamus said.
Then he remarked that I had been arrested, and I agreed that I had been arrested.
Then he said “Have you got any money?” and before I could answer clambered heavily to his feet and, leaning over the table before which I stood, punched me gently.
“Uh,” said the hippopotamus, sat down, and put on his glasses.
“I have your money here,” he said. “You are allowed to draw a little from time to time. You may draw 20 francs, if you like. You may draw it twice a week.”
“I should like to draw 20 francs now” I said, “in order to buy something at the canteen.”
“You will give me a receipt,” said the hippopotamus. “You want to draw 20 francs now, quite so.” He began, puffing and grunting, to make handwriting of a peculiarly large and somewhat loose variety.
The weak face now stepped forward, and asked me gently: “Hugh er a merry can?”—so I carried on a brilliant conversation in pidgeon English about my relatives and America until interrupted by
“Uh.”