“Consarn it!” he snapped, irritably, on one occasion. “Consarn it, Al, why don't you h'ist up on t'other end of that j'ist? What do you cal'late you're out here along of me for; to look harnsome?”
Albert shook his head. “No, Is,” he answered, gravely. “No, that wouldn't be any use. With you around nobody else has a look-in at the 'handsome' game. Issy, what do you do to your face?”
“Do to it? What do you mean by do to it?”
“What do you do to it to make it look the way it does? Don't tell me it grew that way naturally.”
“Grew! Course it grew! What kind of talk's that?”
“Issy, with a face like yours how do you keep the birds away?”
“Eh? Keep the birds away! Now look here, just—”
“Excuse me. Did I say 'birds,' Issy? I didn't mean birds like—like crows. Of course a face like yours would keep the crows away all right enough. I meant girls. How do you keep the girls away? I should think they would be making love all the time.”
“Aw, you shut up! Just 'cause you're Cap'n Lote's grandson I presume likely you think you can talk any kind of talk, don't ye?”
“Not any kind, Is. I can't talk like you. Will you teach me?”