“In short,” continued Sam, not heeding the interruption, “there isn’t a civilised quarter of the globe which is not tied to us by telegraph, and from which we might not hear any morning of the events of the preceding day.”
“Always excepting Central Africa and the two poles,” said the captain.
“I said civilised quarters,” retorted Sam, “and, as far as I know, the poles are inhabited only by bears.”
“True, I forgot, the poles are barely civilised,” said uncle Rik.
“Now, Master Sammy,” growled a deep voice from the adjoining galley, “you keep your hands out o’ that copper.”
“Fasser,” shouted a silvery voice from the same region, “’Tumps is naughty. I wants to wass my hands in de soup, an’ he won’t let me.”
“Quite right. Keep him in order, Stumps,” said the unfeeling Sam, senior.
“Dere—pa says I’s kite right, an’ to keep you in order, ’Tumps,” said the silvery voice. (Then, after a few minutes), “Grunkle Rik, is you finish bekfist?”
“Ay, ay, Sunbeam, quite finished.”
“Den come on deck an’ p’ay vid me.”