“How you do, Massa Down—how you lilly granddaughter do—and how you do you black bird, Massa Gaffer Downes?”
All burst into laughter except Mr. Downes, who walked backwards and forwards once or twice saying, “Dear me, how very vexatious!”
Papa and mamma now both went up to Mr. Downes and told him they saw how vexed he was at the change that had somehow or other taken place in the voice of the Man of Snow, because the spirit of the Lapland Giant had certainly flown away and quite a different one had gotten into its place. However, they begged him not to take it to heart, but to go and speak to the Man of Snow, and ask him to explain a little.
Mr. Downes thought for a minute, and then seeming to make up his mind to it, walked a few paces nearer to the Man of Snow, and this curious dialogue took place between them.
Mr. Downes: “Who art thou, oh, rude, familiar voice, who has usurped the place of the frosty Spirit of last night?”
Man of Snow: “Me the King of Lapland! speaky more respectful to him Snow-ball Majesty, Massa Down!”
Mr. Downes: “No Majesty of Snow hast thou, nor art thou Lapland’s king, nor ever wert, nor shalt be.”
Man of Snow: “Why you say so you Massa Gaffer man! Me come from own country Lapland late last night after supper.”
Mr. Downes: “What, then, for supper did the king of Lapland eat?”
Man of Snow: “Berry good supper to be sure—great supper in great big palace surrounded with orange trees and plantain and banana tree. Me have curried chicken plenty and hot rice with treacle, and a pineapple, and watermelon from own garden close by; and then me have chocolate, berry sweet. What you t’ink now, Massa Downes?”