“Cooky—cakey—nicey,” continued Captain Corbet, in, an amiable tone. “All dood—all nicey—velly.”
And he again paused and smiled.
“Plait-il?” said the Frenchman, politely.
“Plate? O, no, no plate for me, an thank you kindly all the same.”
The Frenchman looked at him in a bewildered way, but still smiled.
“Vouley vous du pain?” he asked, at length.
“Pan?” said Captain Corbet; “pan? Course not. What’d I do with a pan?—but thankin you all the same, course.”
The Frenchman relapsed into silence.
“It was a pooty ’itile tottage,” said Captain Corbet, resuming his baby talk, “an a pooty tompany, an it was all dood—pooty—nicey.”
But the Frenchman didn’t understand a word, and so at length Captain Corbet, with a sigh, gave up the attempt.