Ah-Fo looked up with a smile of delighted recognition, which, as Dennis gave a few preliminary stamps, and began to whistle and shuffle, expanded
into such hearty laughter, that he was obliged to sit down to it by the roadside.
“Look here, Dennis,” said our host; “we shall have a crowd collecting if you go on with this tomfoolery. Send him off.”
“All right, old fellow. Beg your pardon. Good-bye, Te-to-tum.”
It was not a respectful farewell, but there is a freemasonry of friendliness apart from words. Dennis had a kindly heart toward his fellow-creatures everywhere, and I never knew his fellow-creatures fail to find it out.
“Good-bye,” said Ah-Fo, lingeringly.
“Good-bye again. I say, old mandarin,” added the incorrigible Dennis, leaning confidentially over the balcony, “got on pretty well below there? Or did O’Brien keep the tail of his eye too tight on ye? Did ye manage to coax a greatcoat of a hall-table or any other trifle of the kind up those sleeves of yours?”
This time Ah-Fo looked genuinely bewildered, but he gazed at Dennis as if he would have given anything to understand him.
“Uppee sleevee—you know?” said Dennis, illustrating his meaning by signs. (“Chinese is a mighty easy language, Willie, I find, when you’re used to it.”)
A grin of intelligence spread from ear to ear on Ah-Fo’s countenance.