"You mayn't feel bad," said the Irishman, "but by heaven! you look bad. Is it yer nerves that are givin' way?"
"I've no nerves," said Bubb.
Bowdy, who had just returned, was the next to pass a remark on Bubb's condition.
"What has happened to you, matey?" he asked. "You look like a dead hen."
"I'm orl right," said Bubb, but there was a note of concern in his voice. "I 'ad the best dinner ever I 'ad a moment ago. There's some left for you."
"Has it disagreed with you?" asked Bowdy. "What kind of dinner was it?"
"Taters and h'onions fried in vaseline," was Bubb's reply. "The same taters that we got...."
"Vaseline!" Bowdy repeated, "Vaseline! Vaseline!"
"Wot's wrong wiv vaseline?" Bubb enquired.
"What's wrong with it, man," said Bowdy, "everything's wrong with it. Devil blow me blind, it's poison, pure poison. No wonder you're looking white."