When pipes were lighted, and the four were seated on the bank of the creek, the Celestial approached and betrayed an inclination to join in.
“You lettee me talkee, too? Feellee belly lonesome.”
“Look here, John; have you been up Rocky Gulch way?”
“Locky Gulch? No sabbe him.”
“Where did you come from, anyway?” continued Prawle, eyeing him with suspicion.
“San Flancisco.”
“I mean where did you come from last?”
The bright almond eyes twinkled as he answered:
“Malysville.”
“Marysville, eh?”