Or he might speak with a greater tone of reverence as he shaded his eyes:
“Big junk muchee fullee silk. Wing think junk go down whalf see Misteh Blunt.”
“Not enemies, then?” said Stan.
“No; velly good fliend.”
“But there are the big eyes painted on each side of the bows.”
“Yes,” said Wing, smiling; “but good boat. No cally stink-pot to flow on boat and set fi’. No big bang gong and lot fighting-man all ovah. No. That velly good boat, and not hu’t people. Wing tell when he sees bad boat. Lun away then.”
“On shore?”
“Tly go down livah get away. Pilate come too fass. Lun to side and go light away.”
“But what will become of the boat?” asked Stan.
“Pilate send man. Take allee good thing. Set fi’.”