It is bad taste to imitate accents, or oddities of phrase, or nasal deliverances. This Yankee mate then shall speak as our first cousin does.
"Do you mean to say," said he, touching his cap as he approached Hardy and Julia, "that you and this lady"—he bowed to her—"are your ship's company?"
"No," answered Hardy. "We have that dog: he is worth ten foreigners, and we have a watch-tackle and a winch."
"And you are carrying this ship to London alone?"
"Ay."
The Yankee mate looked a little stupefied, glanced along the deck, then up at the Red Ensign, then at the girl who stood beneath it.
"Where are you from?" he asked.
"See here," said Hardy; "I intend to spin my own yarn when I get ashore, and I do not mean that it shall either be diminished or exaggerated by report. This lady and I propose to carry this ship home alone, and that flag flies in vain if we fail."
"Well, I am surprised," said the mate of the barque. "It must be very uncomfortable. Your outer jib is slatting, and your staysails want stowing. Can we help you?"
"I am very much obliged," replied Hardy, "but before you call your men aboard this lady will kindly bring from the cabin a bottle of grog and glasses, that we may drink to the good voyage of the Columbia and to the increasing greatness of your magnificent country."