I slid down to talk with him, still amazed at the phenomenon of encountering fresh, hot—very hot—flapjacks on the high seas.
"What was that you were talking about, Smutje? Flapjacks, how can that be?"
"I will tell you, Phelax. You are the only honest fellow aboard."
"I know that, but go ahead."
"It is the captain's birthday to-day, Phelax. Nobody aboard can make him a present except me. I fixed fourteen flapjacks for him. Is that too much for the captain's birthday?"
"No, Smutje, it is not too much."
"And a delicious cranberry jelly to go with them."
"Cranberry jelly, Smutje?"
"Yes; a fine cranberry compote. Now, by Joe, Phelax, you know I am a good fellow. I would say nothing if some son-of-a-gun stole one flapjack, but, by Joe, I say the one who took the whole fourteen is a son-of-a-gun, by Joe."
"I agree with your opinion, Smutje, he is a son-of-a-gun, by Joe."