“Well,” observed Price, “it appears we have had a narrow chance of losing a messmate.”
“Narrow chance lose two, sar,” replied Billy Pitts; “you forgit, sar, I on board schooner!”
“Oh, Billy, are you there? How does the dictionary come on?”
“Come on well, sar; I make a corundum on Massa Doctor, when on board schooner.”
“Made a what?—a corundum! What can that be?”
“It ought to be something devilish hard,” observed Courtenay.
“Yes, sar, debblish hard find out. Now, sar,—Why Massa Macallan like a general?”
“I’m sure I can’t tell. We give it up, Billy.”
“Then, sar, I tell you. Because he ’feelossifer.”
“Bravo, Billy!—Why, you’ll write a book soon. By the bye, Macallan, I must not forget to thank you for the loan of that gentleman: he has made himself very useful, and behaved very well.”