"Well, what did he say coming home?"
"Not much; dere he set in front, wid his back to me, rowing, and his head all tie up wid my bandanna, and he seem sort o' snarl up, as if he want a night's rest to take de kinks out ob him. He was not much 'cline to 'greeable conversashum. I feel kind o' sorry when I see him so mellancholliky like."
"You needn't be so liberal with your sorry. The scamp desarves it all and more, too. The cretur's cheated us out of half our fun." How I should ha' liked to leave him, as we intended, alone with old Holden on the island! The chicken-hearted booby would ha' half died o' fright, and then 'twould ha' been worth nuts to see how he looked when the old man caught him in the morning, and asked after his business."
"He nebber stay till dat time. He would hab swum 'cross de channel, and run home."
"Well, he'd found out, then, how a fellow likes to be soused in the water, as the blundering blunderbus did me, darn him."
"O, nebber bear no malice. I 'scuse Basset 'cause he don't know no better, and you must forgib him."
"As to that, you needn't fret your gizzard. But how did you git home,
Prime, with your broken leg?"
"Dat is a secret atween me and Basset; but I didn't walk."
"Then, I vow," said Tom, bursting into a laugh, "he either trundled you along in a wheelbarrow, like a load o' pumpkins, or else carried you on his back."
"Nobody roll me in a wheelbarrow," said the General, drawing himself up, and affecting to be offended.