“Cooey—cooey!” I echoed back, and nurse held he hands to her ears.
“Now don’t you go to him, Master Joseph; now please don’t,” said the old lady.
“Mass Joe! hi Mass Joe! Jimmy fine wallaby. Tick fass in big hole big tree.”
Just then my first-lieutenant and Nurse Brown’s great object of dislike, Jimmy, thrust his shiny black face and curly head in at the door.
“Go away, sir,” cried nurse.
“Heap fis—come kedge fis—million tousand all up a creek. Jimmy go way?”
He stood grinning and nodding, with his hands in the pocket holes of his only garment, a pair of trousers with legs cut off to about mid-thigh.
“If you don’t take that nasty black fellow away, Master Joseph, I shall be obliged to complain to your poor ma,” said nurse.
“Get out!” I said; “Jimmy won’t hurt you; and though it don’t show, he’s as clean as a new pin.”
“He isn’t clean; he can’t be, dear. How can any one be clean who don’t wear clothes, Master Joseph? and look at his toes.”