"No,-Mr.-Foster,-I-would-not-have-missed-that-trip-for-a-good-deal."
Every word by itself, and as different from Dick's ordinary talk as a cut stone is from a rough one. Ham Morris opened his eyes wide, and Ford puckered up his lips in a sort of a whistle, but Annie caught the meaning of it quicker than they did.
"Dick," she said, "are we to fish to-day?"
"May be,-but-that-depends-on-Mr.-Morris."
Every word slowly and carefully uttered, a good deal like a man counts over doubtful money, looking sharp for a counterfeit.
"Look here, Dick!" suddenly exclaimed Dab Kinzer, "I give it up. You can do it. But don't try to keep it up all day. Kill you, sure as anything, if you do."
"Did I say 'em all right, Cap'n Dab?" anxiously inquired Dick, with a happy look on his black, merry face.
"Every word," said Dab. "Well for you they were all short. Keep on practicing."
"I'll jest do dat, shuah!"
Practicing? Yes, that was it, and Dick himself joined heartily in the peal of laughter with which the success of his first attempt at "white folk's English" was received by the party. Dab explained that as soon as Dick found he was really to go to the academy he determined to teach his tongue new habits, and the whole company heartily approved, even while they joined Dab in advising him not to try too much at a time.