“I’s been close to de dahk riber, gents, an’ will perceed to tell de truf,” said Cornwallis, now much relieved after his narrow escape. He looked down at the floor and began in a low tone: “Yo’ see, it was jes’ dis way. Mass’ Warmer, he done brung de brandy an’ say, ‘Put some ob dat in de sass an’ some roun’ de puddin’.’ De las’ was to be sot on fire soon as ’twas on de table.
“Wahl, I was stan’in’ lookin’ at de bottle when I heerd a noise. I turn roun’, an’ as shuah as I lib, ef de debil wahn’t right ’side ob me! Oh, he looked orful, an’ I like to died from de shock ob seein’ him. Ef yo’ wants to know what he looks like, jes’ take a good look at dat Prince Sahnders, fur ef him an’ de debil ain’t brudders I’m a cod-fish!
“I says, ‘Debil, go ’way. I doan want no trouble wid you.’ But he gib me.a push towa’ds de bottle, and says, reel soft-like, ‘Yo’ pore, mis’able, skinny, oberwo’ked critter, you’s all fadin’ away.’ (Cornwallis weighed at least two hundred.) ’Dere ain’t nothin’ lef’ ob yo’ but skin an’ bone. Jes’ take a drap ob dat liquor, an’ it mought do lots ob good. You’s gittin’ ole, and needs some stimilant.’
“I knowed it was de gospel truf, yo’ understan’, but at de same time it wahn’t right, an’ I tried to put ole Nick out ob de galley. He wahr bigger den me, an’ jes’ made me drink dat brandy till de bottle looked a’most empty. ’Deed I tried to git him out, but ’twan’t no use, an’ ebery drap ob dat liquor done wanished ’fore he quit pesterin’ me. I’d had a misery in my head de hull mawnin’, but I felt right pert arter de brandy was gone. I sot down to reflec’ a spell.
“‘Now,’ I says, ‘ef de brandy was to be sot fire to an’ burned up, it am plain dat it can’t be drank.’ I ’lowed dat keerosene ansahs de pu’pose jes’ as well, so I puts it roun’ de puddin’. Golly! how dat ile did burn! I was real dis’pinted ’bout de sass, fur I reckoned dat ile mought pizen yo’. So I lef’ it out, an’ hoped dat fak’ would ’scape de company’s obserbation.
“I’s spoke de truf, yo’ understan’, an’ is resolbed to die ’fore I eber agin disto’ts de fak’s.”
We all laughed till we nearly parted our braces, especially Warriner. I wouldn’t have believed he had so much humor. The passenger pulled away the tablecloth and the smashed crockery till he sighted the pudding. What with the smell of oil and burned feathers, and being all scorched up and stepped on, it wasn’t a very fine sight by this time.
“Did any of you ever read ‘Great Expectations?’” he asked.
None of us had.
“It tells of a certain lady called Miss Havisham, who expected to be married one evening. The wedding supper was spread and everything ready, but the bridegroom never came. For years and years after did Miss Havisham keep that feast untouched in the deserted room—kept it until spiders spun webs over it, and mice and damp played havoc with the faded yellow cloth and the viands. Sometimes a boy named Pip would pay her a visit, and then the wax tapers would be lighted, while the strange pair walked round and round the decaying feast.