“Yes.”
“And he ish bone-spavined.”
“Yes.”
“And he sprained-shoulder.”
“Yes.”
“Donner! Ton’t sit dere unt say yes, yes, yes! S’all I dell you one more t’ing? Vell, here it ish. He has nix toot’ in his head!”
“No?” cried Boston, in surprise. “He had when I brought him here. How did he lose them?”
“Dey shoost dropped out in his manger te first times I feed him. Ton’t lie to me. You put his teet’ in to sell him. You tied dem in mit strings, you pig, pig rogue!”
“Gracious, mynheer! Is it possible that you consider me capable of such business?”
“Yaw!”