“Wake you? Not me. What de use ob dat ar? I ben kine o’ watchin, an kine o’ canterin round all de time, seein dat de tings are all straight; an I got de galley stove in prime order, an if youns don’t get de bes breakfas you ebber eat, den I’m a useless ole nigga. Sho, now; go away. Leab tings to me, I tell you.”
“Breakfast!” cried Bart, in amazement. “Why, we’ll drift ashore in a few minutes. Don’t you see how near we are? What shall we do? Is the boat gone?”
Solomon put his head back for a few minutes, and chuckled to himself in a kind of ecstasy.
“De boat? O, yes, de boat’s all right. Held on tight as a drum—de boat an de galley stove.”
“O, then,” said Bart, “come, let’s wake the boys, and get her out at once. It isn’t too rough for her here. We must get some pieces of wood for paddles.”
“O, dere’s lashins ob time; neber you mind,” said Solomon. “You jes lie down an finish your nap, an leab de res to me.”
“But we’re drifting ashore. In a quarter of an hour we’ll be among the breakers.”
“O, no, Mas’r Bart; not in a good many quarter ob an hours.”
“But the shore’s only half a mile away.”
“I know it,” said Solomon; “an it’s ben jes dat, ar distums off for de las four hour an more.”