"Humph! I am surprised that my aunt should trust Marion with that boy."
"Why not, Massah St. John? Jack can manage a boat as well as I can."
St. John tossed his head and flung himself down upon a seat. "I think my aunt makes a fool of herself about that boy. Who is he, anyway? He's only an ocean waif; of low birth, very probably."
"Dat he isn't!" said Old Ben indignantly. "He's a young gen'man, Jack is, an' so was his father."
"Bah! what do you know about his father?"
"He couldn't be Jack's father without bein' a gen'man—dat's wot I know," went on Ben stoutly. "Why, look at de deah chile! How noble an'—an'—handsome he is!"
"Oh, pshaw, Ben! you had better stick to your nets. What do you know about a gentleman?"
"I knows one when I sees one, Massah St. John," was the somewhat suggestive response.
"Oh, do you? And I know an impudent nigger when I see one!" cried St. John angrily.
"No offense, Massah St. John."