“What does he mean?” cried the doctor; “that I should sink the boat?”
“No,” growled Scudds. “Long pork!”
“Long pork!” said the doctor.
And Abram clapped his hands over his mouth, to stay his laughter.
“Yes,” growled Scudds, grinning, and showing a wonderfully white set of teeth; “long pork—long pig—human! Don’t you see? You’d keep a boat’s crew for a fortnit, if they were hard up and starvin’. Hor—hor—hor—hor!”
“My good man,” cried the doctor, shuddering, “that’s a very good joke, no doubt, and very funny, only don’t make it about me again; try it on somebody else! Such a dreadfully anthropophagistic idea!”
“Which?” growled Scudds.
“Well, then, cannibal idea,” said the doctor, shuddering again.
“Lor’, sir, I meant no harm,” said Scudds holding out his great, heavy paw, which the doctor shook. “I’ve often made it about long, thin, Abram Borstick, there; only when I makes it about him, I allers puts it t’other way, and says he’d starve a boat’s crew for a fortnit. Don’t you see?”
“Oh, yes, I see!” said the doctor, nodding.