"I reckon that wanderer must have felt near as bad as he looked! Seemed like he'd been pretty near everywhere once or twice, an' ev'ry place he remembered, something about it made him cry. We got ust to him after a while, and he just sat with his head among th' glasses, 'ceptin' when a drink come by.
"Long about noon we got to wonderin' what we'd better drink next. Th' thought-remover warn't workin' to suit Sly. 'Th' ferry goes at six,' he says, 'an' I ain't even got a start yet. Le's try an' find somethin' certain.' Then th' weeper looks up.
"'I can't 'ope to myke no friends,' he says, eyein' us mournful, 'but I can myke a tamarin' Cocktail. A little lydy down to Macassar learnt me. Mytes, w'en I think of that pore young girl an' the 'orrible wye I lost 'er—' it took two thought-removers to get him sos't he could tell th' pirate what bottles to bring f'r th' cocktail. They made a bunch. Th' sorrerful lad most looked happy when he saw them.
"'They ayn't no tamarin's,' he says, 'but that don't myke no differunce. Mytes, you'd ought to see th' tamarin's at Isle o' France! W'en I think I'll never see no tamarin's like them no more—' On'y th' bottles saved him. He took a swig out of the first one he touched. Right there th' Sorrers o' Satan lad begun to look fishy to me. Didn't seem like anybody'd need quite so many drinks to drown anything but a thirst. But I forgot all that when he gave me th' cocktail.
"'Stead of a kick it had a kind of a pull to it, that drink did, like a b'loon. 'Two more of them,' says Sly, settin' down his glass, 'an' th' Cavite ferry can go when it very well pleases. I can walk.'
"'If so be I 'ad a friend,' says th' mayreener, sort of proud at th' way we lapped them up, 'they's nothin' I'd love better'n to set all dye long mykin' tamarin' cocktails for 'im.' I reckon that was no lie. 'Mytes,' says he, 'w'en I think I'll never 'ave no real friend to myke th'm for—'
"'Brace up, Bo,' says Terry, like a father. Th' tamarin's had took holt that quick. 'Brace up, old sport. We're all friends o' your'n here. Ain't that so, boys?'
"'Is it, mytes?' says th' mayreener. 'Is it? Well, well, I never thought to 'ave three friends all to onct! W'en I think of all the 'undreds of shipmytes—I'll be mykin' up another, mytes.'
"So Barnacles, he got started makin' th'm, an' we got started drinkin' th'm. So did he. I never seen a drink ack like them. Didn't seem to have no real effeck, but things just moved away back where they belonged an' let you alone. And sympathetic! Say, if we could on'y manage to throw a few of them into Local 23, we'd get th' canteen back. They sure are a funny drink. 'Bout th' sixth, we couldn't do enough f'r that stranded mayreener. I'd forgot all about his seemin' fishy, and me an' Terry an' Sly hung round him like a bunch of old-maid aunts, givin' him drinks ev'ry time he remembered anything. He sure had a great mem'ry. 'Twarn't till th' middle of the afternoon it begun to show signs of givin' out. An' then he thinks he wants to have a look at Maniller—sos't he could remember that, I reckon.
"His legs wouldn't quite hold him. 'Mytes,' he says, 'me knees ayn't what they ware. W'en I remember them trips to Kerguelen's Land, down round San Fernando Fo—in them dyes no smarter 'and rove a dead-eye or 'auled a keel. But now—'