“Oh, no, it vas not my dog.”
“Why, you said it was your dog.”
“Oh, no, gaptain, I—”
“It was a white dog, wasn’t it, with his tail docked, and one ear gone, and—”
“Dot’s him, dot’s him!—der fery dog. Wy, py Chorge, dot dog he would eat baint yoost de same like—”
“Well, never mind that, now—‘vast heaving—I never saw such a man. You start him on that dog and he’ll dispute a year. Blamed if I haven’t seen him keep it up a level two hours and a half.”
“Why captain!” said Barrow. “I guess that must be hearsay.”
“No, sir, no hearsay about it—he disputed with me.”
“I don’t see how you stood it.”
“Oh, you’ve got to—if you run with Andy. But it’s the only fault he’s got.”