Presently a boat impelled by lusty arms and hands shot round the stern of the old ship, and brought up alongside, and a tall lanky fellow with a big pack on his back stepped on deck. In an easy tone of familiarity he saluted the old Buccaneer. "Wa'al, old hoss, how are things with you?"
"Pretty well, Jonathan; pretty well," replied the Buccaneer.
"Glad to hear it; heard things wasn't quite O.K. Ever taste O.K. bitters? No! Wa'al, they would just revive a corpse, O.K. bitters would, you bet. Let us deal," he said as he took his pack off, and began laying his merchandise out on the deck. "I say, Boss, could you make it convenient to have this aire stream of yours widened? It puts me more in mind of one of our drains than anything else."
The old Buccaneer was highly indignant at his principal river being spoken of in such a disrespectful manner, and he replied with much dignity: "My river, Master Jonathan, is good enough for me, and if it is too narrow for other people, they can stay away."
"No offence, Boss, no offence. It does look small after our Mississippi, that would be an eye-opener for you, old hoss. But this ain't business. Now, here we have a lozenge that will cure anything, from a cough to a broken leg. Here's a pill fit to physic creation. Honest sailor," he said, addressing Dogvane, "try this pill. It will make your hair stand on end. Take a box for the sake of your family. Each pill is worth a pound, let you have a whole box for one shilling and a penny ha'penny. You have a son, a hopeful boy, give him a pill, if not a pill, try him with this pickle, it will sharpen his understanding and make him a credit to his family. Just you ask who cured Stonewall Jackson?" Dogvane declared he did not want anything; but Jonathan still cried up his wares. "Try this cocktail before going to bed, it will make your teeth curl. Talking about teeth; in teeth I guess we're tall. Now here is a set that one of your ecclesiastical big guns has asked God's blessing on, and they're up a quarter dollar accordingly."
"Jonathan!" the Buccaneer said, "I have long wished to have a little private conversation with you."
"All right, Boss, I thought something was up, chuck it off your chest, whatever it is, it will relieve you."
"I don't think it either neighbourly, or friendly, Jonathan, on your part to harbour people who plot against my life and property."
"What! Have you found out, old hoss, that snakes bite! You've harboured a good deal of vermin in your day, and you can't blame me for doing what you have done yourself. No, Sirree, that cock won't fight. Why, you've given an asylum to the cut-throat rascals of every nation under the sun, and when you could not find room for them, you have sent them over to me."
"I have only given an asylum, Jonathan, to the oppressed."