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Ching go out to-night get plenty blisket, plenty watee, plenty plentee oh, deah oh, deah!" "What is it?" I whispered. "Oh deah! Not drop watee left. You get up dlink allee watee?" "No; did you?" "No. Ching see. Pooh Tom Jeck knock over with arm." It was only too evident, for the water vessel had been laid upon its side, and the sand beneath was soaked.
"Allee going 'way?" "No," I replied, with my lips to his ear; "they are carrying up boards and pieces of the wreck and sails, and making themselves a shelter. They are going to stay." Ching drew his breath with a low hiss, and was silent for a few minutes. Then, quite cheerfully, he whispered "Velly bad job. Don'tee want bad wicked pilate here. Nevy mind: come, eat blisket, dlink watee.
But Ching woke just then, and, nodding and smiling, he helped me to turn our poor companion back, when we found him flushed and excited, muttering angrily, quite off his head. "Nevy mind; pilate get tired; go to-day," whispered Ching. "Get bettee soon. Now have bleakfast. Waitee bit: Ching makee butiful bleakfast, chicken, toast, egg, nice flesh tea. There. On'y 'nuff blisket for to-day.
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