"Well, you are one—aren't you?"
"Well, you are a state-prison bird—aren't you?"
"Don't say that again!" said Dock, shaking his head.
"I'll say it twenty-five times more, if you call me a nigger as many times as that."
"Aren't you a black man?"
"I am; but my heart isn't half so black as yours. I'm not a nigger," protested the colored man, stoutly; and it was evident in this instance that the negro would fight, which was just the thing Dock didn't wish him to do.
"Whatever you are, I won't dirty my hands licking a nigger," added the bully.
"But I'll dirty mine by licking a state-prison bird, and you shall have the satisfaction of being licked by a black man," said the steward, stepping up towards his burly antagonist.
"Cool off, cuffee; I was only joking with you," continued Dock, with a mighty effort to laugh.
"Don't call me cuffee. My name is C. Augustus Ebénier, and I am ready to teach you good manners, without fee or reward."