"No wonder you're so hard up and 'ave got to take in lodgers. What's yer name?"
"John Jones," in a demure wheedling voice.
"Hoo—that's not your name in your own bloody country—I expect it's Hullabullinsky."
"Do you know what my name really is?"
"No."
"It's Assenheimopoplocatdwizlinsky Kovorod." (Loud laughter.)
"I shall call you 'ass' for short."
I was laughing loudly at these two clowns and the skipper observing as much, shouted out to me,—
"Parlez-vous Francois, M'sieur?"
"Oui, oui," said I.