Here Bill stopped to swallow a portion of the cracker that impeded his speech, and Tim looked around him in blank amazement, not understanding this portion of the proceedings. Bill continued, in the most serious manner:
“We knowed what a hard time you was havin’ on the Pride, an’ we wanted to have you come an’ live here, ’cause we thought we should like you, an’ ’cause you had such a fine dog. This little chowder welcome ain’t all we’ve got for yer. To-morrer we’re goin’ to take Tip an’ you out in the woods, an’ we’ve decided that the first bear he kills shall be skinned, an’ the skin nailed up on Bobby Tucker’s father’s barn, where everybody can see what your Tip has done.”
At that point Bobby Tucker slyly pinched Tip’s stub tail, and he uttered such a yelp that the remainder of the company applauded loudly, thinking he must have understood what was said.
When the noise ceased Bill bowed gracefully to Tip, as an acknowledgment of his appreciation, and, having swallowed that which had been in his mouth, was able to speak more plainly.
“Mr. Babbige, we fellers want to ’gratulate you on gettin’ off the Pride, an’ more ’specially on comin’ to this town, where the fellers will treat you an’ Tip as you ought to be treated. We hope you’ll stay forever with us, an’ never want to go away. Now, fellers, I say three cheers for Tip an’ Tim Babbige.”
The cheers were given with a will, causing Tim’s face to turn as red as a boiled beet, while his confusion was as great as his face was red.
As soon as the noise had died away Bobby was on his feet, ready to express his opinion on the subject.
“Mr. Tim—I mean Tim—no, Mr. Timothy Babbige,” he began, very earnestly; but his difficulty in getting the name right so confused him that he forgot what he was to say next. He cleared his throat until his voice was as hoarse as an aged frog’s, and yet no words came. Then he seized a glass of water, drinking it so fast that he gasped and choked until the tears came into his eyes and his face became as red as Tim’s.
“Mr. Babbige,” he began; but Tim’s big eyes were fixed on him so pityingly that he was all at sea again so far as words were concerned. At length, making a desperate effort, he said: “Well, we’re glad to see you here, Tim, an’ we mean to make it jest as lively for you as we know how.”
Then Bobby sat down, very much ashamed that he had made such a failure; but when the boys cheered him as loudly as they had Bill he began to think it was quite a speech after all.