The poor fellow, after endeavouring to look as serious as possible, and giving sundry hems and haws, and looking unutterable things, as if in doubt whether we were in jest or no, began his story.
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF SERJEANT QUACCO.
"Gentlemen," began our dark friend, "I tink it very proper dat you read dis certificate before I say more—proper you should be perswade dat I was one person of consequence, before we proceed farder." Whereupon he handed a small flat tin box to Davie Doublepipe.
"Read, Sprawl," said I,—"read."
The lieutenant took off the lid, and produced a ragged piece of paper, which, after some trouble in deciphering, he found to contain the following words:—
"I certify, that the bearer, Corporal Quacco, late of H.M. —— West India regiment, has received his discharge, and a free passage to the coast of Africa, whither he has desired to return, in the first of his Majesty's ships that may touch here, belonging to that station; in consequence of his gallantry and faithful conduct during the late mutiny, wherein Major D—— unfortunately lost his life." I forget the name and rank of the officer who signed it.
"So you see, gentlemen, dat I is Kin's hofficer same as youselves, although on the retired list. Let me tell what you shall hear now. Twenty year ago, I was catch in de Bonny river, and sold to one nice captain from Livapool. He have large ship, too much people in him—a tousand—no—but heap of people. He was nice man, until him get to sea—was debil den—cram we into leetle, small, dam dirty hole—feed we bad—small time we get to breath de fresh air on deck, and plenty iron on we legs, and clanking chain on we neck, and fum, fum—dat is floggee—I sall not say where. But soon we come widin two week of West Indy—ho! food turn wery much better—we get more air—palm oil sarve out to we, to make we skin plump and nice.
"So, to make one long story short, we arrive at Jamaica, and ten of de best-looking of we"—(here the black serjeant drew himself up)—"were pick out—select, you call—by one hofficer, and dat day we were marshed to Fort Augusta, to serve his Majesty as soldiers in de grenadier company of de —— West India regiment. Long time pass over. We all pick up de Englis language—some better, some worser; for all peoples cannot expect to pronounce him so well as Serjeant Quacco."
"Certainly not," said Sprawl.
"And we drill, drill, drill, every day, and marsh and countermarsh, and wheel and halt, until we are quite proficient. I was now one corporal. Cat never touch my back;—never get dronk—dat is, except I know I can lie in hammock widout neglect my duty until I get sober again. My captain say, I was de best man in de company—and I tink so too myself, so de captain must have been right; and some good mans were amongst we, gentlemen—ah, and some wery bad ones also.