The person thus appealed to chanced to be the young steerage passenger; who, during the long voyage, had abstained from going abaft of the main-mast with as much scrupulousness as Mr Smythje had observed about venturing forward. Hence it was that the voice of the exquisite was as strange to him, as if he had never set eyes on that illustrious, personage.
On perceiving that the speech was meant for himself, he was at first a little nettled at its patronising tone; but the feeling of irritation soon passed away, and he fixed his eyes upon the speaker, with a good-humoured, though somewhat contemptuous expression.
“Aw—haw—it is yaw, my young fellaw,” continued the exquisite, now for the first time perceiving to whom he had made his appeal. “Aw, indeed! I’ve often observed yaw from the quawter-deck. Ba Jawve! yes—a veway stwange individwal!—incompwehensibly stwange! May I ask—pawdon the liberty—what is bwinging yaw out heaw—to Jamaica, I mean?”
“That,” replied the steerage passenger, again somewhat nettled at the rather free style of interrogation, “which is bringing yourself—the good ship Sea Nymph.”
“Aw, haw! indeed! Good—veway good! But, my deaw sir, that is not what I meant.”
“No?”
“No, I ashaw yaw. I meant what bisness bwings yaw heaw. P’waps you have some pwofession?”
“No, not any,” replied the young man, checking his inclination to retaliate the impertinent style of his interrogator.
“A twade, then?”
“I am sorry to say I have not even a trade.”