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Updated: May 12, 2025
"What's dat, Brer Bob?" asked Daddy Jake, and as soon as Uncle Bob had yelled at him Dumps's query and his answer to it, the old man said: "Yer wrong, Brer Bob; I 'members well de fus' Fourf uv July; hit wuz er man, honey. Marse Fofer July wuz er man, an' de day wuz name atter him.
In stepping back to avoid the blow, the lad trod on Dumps's paw, and instantly there came from the throat of that excellent dog a roar of anguish that caused Poker to leap, as the cook expressed it, nearly out of his own skin.
"Hallo! what's wrong there for'ard?" enquired Saunders, who had been pacing the quarter-deck with slow giant strides, arguing mentally with himself in default of a better adversary. "Only trod on Dumps's paw, sir," said Mivins as he hurried aft; "the men are sky-larking."
That evening, just after the gas was lighted, while I was lying on the sofa thinking of these things, and toying with Dumps's ears, the door opened and Mrs McTougall entered, with Miss Blythe leaning on her arm. It was the first time she had come down to the drawing-room since her illness.
"Mammy, we won't never run away any more," said Diddie, as Mammy came up; "'twas Dumps's fault, anyhow." "Nem min', yer ma's gwine whup yer," said Mammy; "yer'd no business at dis gin-house long o' dat sheep, an' I won'er what you kinky-head niggers is fur, ef yer can't keep de chil'en in de yard: come yer ter me!"
"At, then," said he to Dumps with a wheedling air and expression of intense affection that would have taken by storm the heart of any civilised dog, "won't ye come now an' lay in yar own kennel? Sure it's a beautiful wan, an' as warm as the heart of an iceberg. Doo come now, avic, an' I'll show ye the way." But Dumps's heart was marble. He wouldn't budge.
"Hallo! what's wrong there for'ard?" inquired Saunders, who had been pacing the quarter-deck with slow giant strides, arguing mentally with himself in default of a better adversary. "Only trod on Dumps's paw, sir," said Mivins, as he hurried aft; "the men are sky-larking." "Sky-larking, are you?" said Saunders, going forward.
He is runned erway, an me an Diddie know where he is, an' we've ben feedin' him, an' we don't want you ter whup him; will you please don't?" and Dumps's arm slipped down from the old man's head, until it rested around his neck; and Mr.
Dumps's was a wax baby with eyes that would open and shut; and it had on a long white dress, just like a sure-enough baby, and a little yellow sack, all worked around with white. Tot was so little, and treated her dollies so badly, that "Old Santa" had brought her an India-rubber baby, dressed in pink tarlatan, with a white sash.
I had just ascertained from the brass plate on the door that Dr McTougall dwelt there, and was thinking what an ugly unromantic name that was for a pretty girl as I descended the steps, when Dumps's first yell broke upon my astonished ears.
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