“Native of these parts, 1 presume, stranger?”
The Oyster bowed.
“Wal, no offence to you, but I guess we’ve got Oysters over our side of the Atlantic that could knock you into fits. Why, we’ve got’em so big over there that it takes two men and a boy to swallow one of them.”
“I’ve heard my Uncle say,” remarked Boy pleasantly, that most things in America are on a very large scale; I suppose he must have been thinking of those oysters.”
“Yes, Siree, I guess your Uncle’s right. I reckon that our country is going to lick creation before long,” said the American King Crab, walking away and looking very pleased.
“There, now you’ve made him happy,” said the Oyster, laughing.
“Why, what have I done?” asked Boy innocently.
“Why, Americans are always very glad to hear their country praised, you know,” said the Oyster; “let’s come on deck and hear the singing.”
Boy very readily followed him on to the deck where they found a crowd gathered around a couple of Soles with black faces, dressed in nigger costumes, who were singing to the accompaniment of a guitar the following song:—