“I’ll tell you—in the first place, what have you for dinner?”
“Moonshine, what have we got for dinner?”
“Dinner, sar?—me not yet tink about dinner. What you like to eat, sar?”
“What have we got in the house, Moonshine?”
“Let me see, sar? first place, we ab very fine piece picklum pork; den we have picklum pork; and den—let me tink—den we ab, we ab picklum pork, sar.”
“The long and the short of it is, Bob, that we have nothing but a piece of pickled pork; can you dine off that?”
“Can a duck swim, Cockle!”
“Please, sar, we ab plenty pea for dog baddy,” said Moonshine.
“Well, then, Cockle, as all that is required is to put the pot on the fire, you can probably spare Moonshine, after he has done that, and we will look to the cookery; start him off with a note to Mr Johns, and he can bring back a couple of bottles from my quarters.”
“Really dat very fine tought, Massa Farren; I put in pork, and den I go and come back in one hour.”