“Yes, all on ’em,” said Jecks; “and I don’t want to use strong language afore one’s orficer, who’s a young gent as is allers thoughtful about his men, and who’s beginning to think now, that with the sun so precious hot he’ll be obliged to order us ashore soon for a drop o’ suthin’ to drink.”
I laughed, and Tom Jecks chuckled.
“But what I do say about their eatin’ and cookin’ is this, and I stands by what I says, it’s beastly, that’s what it is—it’s beastly!”
“Ay, ay,” was chorussed, “so it is;” and then there was silence, while we all sat uneasily in the broiling sun.
“Wish I was a gal,” growled one of the men at last.
“Ain’t good-looking enough, matey,” said Jecks. “Why?”
“’Cause then I s’ould have a sunshade to put up.”
“Ay, ’tis warm—brylin’, as you may say. Any on you know whether the Chinese is cannibals? You know, sir?”
“I have heard that they cook very strange things now and then,” I said, laughing.
“Then they is,” said Jecks; “and that being so, they’ll have a fine chance to-day. Hadn’t you better send word to some on ’em to lay the cloth, sir?”