"''Ow doss de leetle beesy bee-e
Impr-rove each shinin' hour-r,
And gader 'oney all de day-e
From every openin' flower-r-r!
So it begin, and—"
"I see Madame Bottle!" suddenly exclaimed Schwab, rising clumsily from the deck-chair into which he had subsided. The others rose also and hastened along the deck towards a group of two ladies and a gentleman coming in their direction. Schwab at once took possession of Mrs. Pottle; the others manoeuvred for the place at Ethel's left hand, the right being occupied by her father. Desjardins lost his chance by waiting to make an elaborate bow; Morton, for all his bluntness, was a bashful man; so that Bob had no great difficulty in securing the position. Morton consoled himself by arranging deck-chairs for the ladies, and the company grouped themselves, Schwab still next to Mrs. Pottle, and Bob retaining his place at Ethel's left hand.
"We've been hearing of your English lessons to Ah-Sam," said Morton to Ethel.
"Have you? Oh yes! I don't like his pidgin English at all. It would be so much nicer if he could speak properly, and the poor man is really so eager to learn."
"How does he get on?" asked Bob.
"I think he is improving, but it is very slow. I read in a magazine the other day that learning to recite poetry is a great help, so I have been teaching him a very easy little poem, explaining it as I go along in just the same simple language I use to my Sunday-school class. He is so intelligent."
"There he is," said Bob. "Let us see what he makes of it" (with a glance at Desjardins). "You don't mind, Miss Charteris?"
"Not at all," replied Ethel, with a faint blush, "—if you are not too severe an examiner."
"Here, Ah-Sam!" called Bob.