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Rednose ole fren' the guv'ner's! Mr. Rednose, Admiral Dewey; shake han's hic. Ain't he a daisy, though blue ribbon at the New York show eighty-five hundred at a clip! How's that, hey?" The speaker sank into one of the big armchairs, and Admiral Dewey crouched beneath it; he did not snarl again, but he never took his eyes off Jurgis. He was perfectly sober, was the Admiral.
"B'soir, Monsieur le Colonel," he said, touching his skull-cap, "the water is very low. You fren'," he added, turning to me, "he stay long time in St. Louis?" "He is going away to-night, in an hour or so," I answered, with thanksgiving in my heart. "I am sorry," said Monsieur Lenoir, politely, but his looks belied his words. "He is ver' fond Suzanne. Peut etre he marry her, but I think not.
"Ah ri'. 'S countersign. Pass. Fren'." It attempted a military gesture but succeeded merely in hitting its mouth with its hand. It then looked at the hand as if the latter had done it on purpose and became sunk in profound cogitation. "Not feeling very well today?" Oliver ventured. It looked at him. "Well?" it said briefly. Then, after a silence devoted to trying to find where its hands were.
The banker translated, addressing himself to one of his companions, rather markedly and with much deference. "You're speakin' French," interrupted Captain Cable. "Yes, my fren', I am. Do you know French?" "Not me," returned Captain Cable, affably. "They're all one to me. They're all damn nonsense."
The voice was growing shriller. "How do you know?" "Robbin's easy." "I must believe it if you say so." "Why you get mad? Why you stick up for him so hard?" persisted the Frenchman stubbornly. "Why wouldn't I stick up for him? He's a friend of mine." "Fine fren dat lazy cheap-skate!" There was real venom in the voice.
"It's Mrs. Maitland," he told the man with a tremor. Hickey nodded, unimpressed. "Uh-huh. I knowed that all along," he replied. "But seein' as yeh didn't want it talked about...." And, apparently heedless of Maitland's startled and suspicious stare: "If yeh're goin' to see yer fren', yeh better get a wiggle on. He won't last long." "Who? Bannerman? What the deuce do you mean?"
"'Well, says the bluebird, 'ef you see a bummelybee, don't you let nobody take his honey from him, fur he's a pertickeler fren' of mine. He was sorter shamed to let on to the squirl how nigh chawmed he was. "'I promise, cross my heart, says the squirl, and Mr. Bluebird flown off. "Aftern awhile, up flown Mr. Bummely, and smack behind him comes a little boy layin' out to git his honey. "Mr.
"You come allonger me," said the voice of the Ship's Corporal, a deep, alarming voice, calculated to inspire awe and reverence in the breast of a new entry. Nosey turned, and then stopped irresolutely. If he were to die "'Ere," he said, relenting. "Nex' o' kin I ain't got none. But I gotter fren'." He coloured hotly. "Miss Abel's 'er name; 14 Golder's Square, Bloomsbury, London. Miss J. Abel."
"My fren', I 'ave myself been to-night, at midnight, on t'e moore, and I 'ave 'eard t'e army of t'e Duc de Monmoot' marching to Bristol on t'e road what you call t'e road, Wentwort'?" "The Eastern Causeway, my lord," answered the captain. "Voil!" said Feversham, and spread his hands. "What you say now, eh?"
He bounced up and stared at me wild. Then he drops down on his knees, and puts his hands together and says: "Doan' hurt me don't! I hain't ever done no harm to a ghos'. I alwuz liked dead people, en done all I could for 'em. You go en git in de river agin, whah you b'longs, en doan' do nuffn to Ole Jim, 'at 'uz awluz yo' fren'." Well, I warn't long making him understand I warn't dead.
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