"W'ot!" exclaimed the astonished cockney, with his breath almost taken away by the novelty of the charge. "I—I husurp your throne! My dear hold fellow, I vouldn't 'ave it for ha gift."
"Ha! do yer insult us? Executioners, do your duty!" roared the indignant monarch.
"Now, 'old hon, hexecutioners," argued the cockney, remonstrating, "let me warn you not to go han' do hanything so wery rash. Do you 'appen to know 'oo I ham?"
"Yes, you're the grandson of—the Lord Knows Who," said Father Nep.
"Bless me, now, and 'ow did you know that my grandfather was a lord? That's wery astonishing, I declare. Wery well, you see I'm considerably different from halmost all of you fellows, hinhasmuch has I was brought hup a gentleman, hand was born hin dear hold Hingland, the Hempress of the Hocean. Now, certainly, your Hexcellency won't be so unfortunately rash has to hoffend the Hempress of the Hocean by hany hundue hinterference with one of her favorite sons, while hin the pursuit of 'is peaceful havocation."
The Britisher argued this in his most solemn and impressive style, and looked, when he was through, as if he thought the argument to be conclusive. But he roused a new enemy in an unexpected quarter. Scarcely had he finished his harangue, before Amphitrite (née Bluefish) sprung from her throne, with a wild yell, and caught him by the hair.
"Who dares to style any other than me the hempress of the briny deep?" she shrieked in his ear. "Ha! villain, thou art convicted out of thine own mouth. Usurper, thy time's come! Tritons, do your work!"
"But I protest! I demand ha hinstantaneous release has a Hinglishman on the 'igh seas! Captain, I happeal to you! This houtrage to Hinglishmen will be hawfully havenged! I protest—I—"
But he was now on the plank, undergoing the operation of shaving, and his open mouth received the great brush of lather full between his teeth, almost choking him, and completely gagging him for some time to come. Then the plank was whipped from under him, and down he went with an awful splash into the tub, protesting, amid the shouts of laughter, something about his being "a chosen son of hold Hingland."
We tossed him in the sail with the jolliest vehemence, but, when the ropes were being adjusted for the final part of the programme, that of keel-hauling, he begged off piteously.