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Ob course I got awrful t'in so t'in dat w'en I stood side-wise you could hardly see me. Well, what de way to get fat an' strong? Why, eat, ob course. Eat eat eat. Das de way. Now, your fadder git not'ing but black bread, an' not 'nuff ob dat; an' he git plenty hard work too, so he git t'in. So, what I prupposes is to gib him two good biskits ebery day.
"Stick to you, massa, troo t'ick an' t'in," returned the negro with emphatic promptitude, which caused even Pedro to laugh.
I don't t'ink he'll be hard on de wittles, an' he's so t'in dat he won't puspire much when he works in de sun in summer. Do buy him, massa." But "massa" would not buy him, and looked hard for some time at our hero. "I see how it am," said the negro, growing sulky. "You set your heart on dat useless ijit. Do come away, massa, it 'ud break my heart to lib wid sich a feller."
With what concrete pangs of acute mental distress would this person ever behold his immaculate progenitor taking part in a similar sit-round game with an assembly of worthy mandarins, the one asking questions of meaningless import, as "Why did they Hangkow?" and another replying in an equal strain of no consecutiveness, "In order to T'in Tung!"
How could that do him any good?" Sally looked at her friend with an air of pity. "Didn't you say he was awrful t'in?" she asked. "Thin? Oh yes dreadfully thin." "Well, den, isn't dat 'cause he not hab 'nuff to eat? I knows it, bress you! I's bin wid a missis as starved me. Sometimes I t'ink I could eat my shoes.
To all of which the negro listened with a face so utterly devoid of expression of any kind that his old master and playmate could not tell how he took it. "And now," he asked in conclusion, "what say you to all that?" "Stick to you troo t'ick and t'in," repeated Quashy, in a tone of what might be styled sulky firmness. "But," said Lawrence, "I can't pay you any wages."
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