"Famous!" said the sailor. "Us was a downright dunce to you, my son. Now, then, hoise anchor, and pipe up! Andy Battle is an Englishman; hip, hooray! Andy Battle——"
"'Andy Baffle——'"
"'Is an——'"
"'Izzn——'"
"'Is an Englishman.'"
"'Izziningulissmum,'" said Nod very slowly.
"'Hip, hooray!'" bawled Battle.
"'Ippooray!" squealed Nod. And Battle rocked to and fro on his log with laughter.
"That's downright rich, my son, that is! 'Izzuninglushum!' As sure as ever mariners was born to be drownded,
"We'll sail away, o'er the deep blue say,
And to old England we'll make our way."