“Yes, sah; d’reckly, sah.”
“Look ye here, ’Pollo, old mate,” said Oakum; “you and I have had some rum voyages in our time, old nigger.”
“You call me ole mate, sah,” said ’Pollo, angrily, “I answer hundred tousan queshtum. You call me nigger, sah, I dam if I say noder word.”
“It’s all right, ’Pollo, I won’t any more. You’re a coloured gentleman; and, though I chaff you sometimes, I know that I can always depend on you, fair weather or foul.”
The black nodded, showed his white teeth, and his eyes twinkled.
“Now look here, ’Pollo, old man; do you remember being in the little brig off Caraccas, when we had the gold?”
“Yes, sah, I membah well; and membah when we had do tree hundred lilly women aboard de big ship, and de big horse alligator woman. Yah, yah, yah!”
“So do I, ’Pollo; but what did we do when we were in the brig?”
“Catch de fish,” said ’Pollo.
“To be sure we did; but what did we find lying down fathoms deep in the clear water?”