"Bard schooner again, sar. Another man-of-war take schooner in West Indies: send her in prize. Keep me and some on board becase want hands; keep me, becase speak little English."
"How did you like a man-of-war?" inquired Newton.
"Man-of-war very fine place; but all slaves there—captain steal men every ship he come to. But sailor no tink so; ebery night we all sing, Britong nebber, nebber, nebber, will be slave. Make me laugh, sar," continued the man, showing his teeth with a broad grin.
"What was the frigate's name?"
"Very fine name, sar, call her Daddy Wise."[1]
[Footnote 1: Dedaigneuse, we suppose.]
"How long were you on board of her?"
"Far year, sar; larn carpenter trade—go to England—pay off—get plenty money—come out here in marchant vessel; England very fine place, but too much cold," said the negro, shuddering at the bare recollection.
"Now, tell me," said Kingston, "of course you recollect being in your own country? Which do you like best—that or this?"
"Ashantee very good country—Barbadoes very good country. Ashantee nebber work, hab no money—here plenty work, plenty money."