Pew. I ain’t sung like that since I sang to Admiral ’Awke, the night before I lost my eyes, I ain’t. ‘Sink me!’ says he, says Admiral ’Awke, my old commander (touching his hat), ‘sink me!’ he says, ‘if that ain’t ’art-of-oak,’ he says: ‘’art-of-oak,’ says he, ‘and a pipe like a bloody blackbird!’ Commander, here’s my respecks, and the devil fly away with Admiral Guinea!
Kit. I say, Pew, how’s this? How do you know about Admiral Guinea? I say, Pew, I begin to think you know too much.
Pew. I ax your pardon; but as a man with a ’ed for argyment—and that’s your best p’int o’ sailing, Commander; intelleck is your best p’int—as a man with a ’ed for argyment, how do I make it out?
Kit. Aha, you’re a sly dog, you’re a deep dog, Pew; but you can’t get the weather of Kit French. How do I make it out? I’ll tell you. I make it out like this: Your name’s Pew, ain’t it? Very well. And you know Admiral Guinea, and that’s his name, eh? Very well. Then you’re Pew; and the Admiral’s the Admiral; and you know the Admiral; and by George, that’s all. Hey? Drink about, boys, drink about!
Pew. Lord love you, if I’d a-had a ’ed like yours! Why the Admiral was my first cap’n. I was that man’s bo’sun, I was, aboard the Arethusa; and we was like two brothers. Did you never hear of Guinea-land and the black ivory business? (sings)—
‘A quick run to the south we had, and when we made the Bight
We kept the offing all day long and crossed the bar at night.
Six hundred niggers in the hold and seventy we did stow,
And when we’d clapped the hatches on, ’twas time for us to go.’
Lay forward, lads!
Kit and Pew (in chorus)—
‘Time for us to go,’ etc.
Kit. I say, Pew, I like you; you’re a damned ugly dog; but I like you. But look ye here, Pew: fair does it, you know, or we part company this minute. If you and the Ad—the Admirable were like brothers on the Guinea coast, why aren’t you like brothers here?