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Well, again! in this book, Ingham, who had been reading it all day, had put five or six newspaper-marks. The first was at this entry, "A new boy came into the mess. They said he was a French boy, but the first luff says he is the Capptain's own nef-few." Two pages on, "The French boy fought Wimple and beat him. They fought seeventeen rounds." Farther yet, "Toney is offe on leave.
The recollection of Toney Lawson's adventure didn't tend to make me feel any more comfortable than before. I could scarcely hope to be as well off as he was, or to have so fortunate an escape. My provisions being exhausted, I was aware that I must soon get out of the hold or perish, yet I didn't anticipate much satisfaction from obtaining my liberty.
My situation in some respects was infinitely worse than that of Toney Lawson, who was bolted in, but then people knew where he was. No one on deck was aware of my deplorable condition. Still I crawled on, resolved to succeed. While feeling about, I discovered a space between three or four bales. I crept in very much as a rat does into his hole, only he knows where he is going.
He had the habit same as some other of the best card sharps I've met with of dressing himself in black, real stylish: wearing a long-tail coat and a boiled shirt and white tie, and having a toney wide-brimmed black felt hat that touched him off fine.
"Toney felt as if he should drop if he didn't get something to eat, and just then a whiff from the galley came across his nose. He took the pen and managed to write his name, in a fashion. "`That'll do, my man, says the captain. `You're now one of the crew, and under my orders. We've pretty strict discipline aboard here. There's the yard-arm, and there's the sea alongside.
"Toney told him how he had been paid off and had pretty well emptied his pockets of shiners, and was thinking that before long he must join another craft. "`That's just what I was a thinking of too, so just step in here, mate, and we'll have a talk about the matter over a glass or two, and he pointed to the door of a public-house which stood temptingly open to entice passers-by.
"Mercy me, ain't that nice quite toney. I hope he'll win if Mister Bobo's horse don't." "Nal," whispered Mandy, "you've not been betting against Comet, have you?" "That's what I have, Mandy. I've got my hull stack o' chips on this yere half-mile dash." "But, Nal, Comet will win sure. Grandfather's crazy about the colt. He says he can't lose no-way." "That's all right," said Nal.
I want to go yonder, Miss Alice, on de top ob dat mound, and lie down wid ole massa and missus. He told your pa to put me dar; but your pa's gone. O Miss Alice! dey's all gone but you and me and your brodder, and he don't care for Toney, and maybe he will trow him out in de woods like a dog when he die."
But the Alhambra sounds ever so much more toney. It was decided on. I threw away the Baedeker and Murray, and Ford's 'Spain, on which I had been relying for three chapters of padding and local colour. I ceased to think of the very old churches of St. Croix and St. Seurin and a variety of other interesting objects. I did not bother about St.
"It was too great a walk for her, Uncle Toney, and then she does not like my company well enough to pay so much fatigue for it." Toney laughed again. "Too much walk, indeed, she walk here most ebery day, wid her little bonnet in her hand and basket too, wid sometin good for Toney. No, sir, General Washington's war, de ole war of all and den, young massa, you ought to see her.
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