'What is that?'
'Dis is mein fader's passport. Look ant readt! Plue eyes, proun hair, round kinn, pig mouf—und all dat, so fort. He hafe a goot deal of exbression like mine.'
(Where this latter could have been I could not imagine.)
'Yas—und he wear a plue gote.'
'Oh—a goatee, I suppose, on his chin?'
'No. It was a plue gote on his pack. He hafe a peard like mein, und look like mein. Put mein fader was a more older man dan me.'
'Ah, indeed!'
'Yas. Baint him mit a piple on a taple, und mit a girl on his hands.'
'What!!'
'Yas—mine leetle daughter. I prings her here to be colored.'