“I don’t know where they are,” says Phil; “but I see ’em, guv’ner. They was flat. And miste.”
Governor and commander are interchangeable terms with Phil, expressive of the same respect and deference, and applicable to nobody but Mr. George.
“I was born in the country, Phil.”
“Was you, indeed, commander?”
“Yes. And bred there.”
Phil elevates his one eyebrow, and after respectfully staring at his master to express interest, swallows a great gulp of coffee, still staring at him.
“There’s not a bird’s note that I don’t know,” says Mr. George. “Not many an English leaf or berry that I couldn’t name. Not many a tree that I couldn’t climb yet, if I was put to it. I was a real country boy once. My good mother lived in the country. Do you want to see the country, Phil?”
“N-no, I don’t know as I do, particular.”
“The town’s enough for you, eh?”
“Why, you see, commander,” says Phil, “I ain’t acquainted with anythink else, and I doubt if I ain’t a-getting too old to take to novelties.”