Sometimes I work on dinghy. Two or three times I dibe not much dibe. I carn stand that work. Not strong for that so heavy work. One morning Boss he set me on to clean out dinghy. Too much rotten fish. You see, when diber bring shell up, Boss he open ebery one chuck meat along dinghy. That dinghy, I tell you my yarn proper close up half full stinking meat.
"I dun declar ter you dat we'd all be at de bottom, feedin' fishes, if I'd dun wot you ax. Been no use nohow. Young Marse Houghton mus' got cotched in de riggin' or he'd come up an' holler. I couldn't dibe a'ter 'im in de dark, and in dat swashin' sea." "Stop your cursed croaking. If you had known how to manage your boat it wouldn't have happened." "I dun my bes', boss.
Under conditions and circumstances all in favour, the diver relies upon an inevitable infirmity on the part of the oyster for the revelation of its whereabouts. "When man he dibe," says Hamed, "that go'lip quick he shut 'em mout. Carn see 'em. Subpose open mout, man quick he see 'em shove-em alonga beg." At the peril of its life the oyster gapes. "Last night I bin drim. My word good drim.