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Updated: June 24, 2025
"Lil' gal hungly li' boy hungly?" asked Hop Sing in his funny talk. "Got any cookies?" inquired Teddy. "No glot clooklies glot him clake," the Chinese answered. "What does he say?" asked Janet of her brother. "I guess he means cake," whispered Teddy, and that was just what Hop Sing did mean.
On being questioned again, he answered as before, with the greatest serenity, intimating that Dicky would come home 'heap bime- by' when he got 'plenty hungly. He seemed to think a lost boy or two in a family rather a trifle than otherwise, and wound up his unfeeling remarks with the practical one, 'Dinner all leady; you no eat mutton, he get cold! Misser Wins', I no find pickle; you catchum!
"Oh deah me!" said Ching in his most squeaky tones, "I velly hungly. You like nicee bleakfast, Mis' Hellick?" "Don't speak to me as if I were a baby, Ching," I cried angrily. "No; speak like to offlicer, Mr Hellick. You likee bleakfast something good eat?"
And if I clied, it did not last long, and I would soon fall to sleep, for he would lock me in his lap, and kiss me, and wipe all my tears away. 'He who? 'Why, what a question! he who told me when I was hungly, and of the thing that was lipening outside the cellar, which would be so nice. 'I see, I see. But in all that dingy place, and thick gloom, were you never at all afraid? 'Aflaid!
His face was expressionless, but his eyes, black, watchful, were curiously alert. "What foh you come, Injun?" Feng demanded. "Wantee glub? Injun all time hiyu eat, all same hobo tlamp. S'pose you hungly me catch some muckamuck. Catch piecee blead, catch col' loast beef loast moosmoos!" "You catchum," Simon agreed. "Casey where him stop?" "Casey!" Feng's features expanded in a grin.
Then quite a couple of hours must have passed, and Pomp began to fidget about terribly, making so much noise that if the Indians had been anywhere at hand, they must have heard. "Hush!" I said; "sit still." "Can't, Mass' George," he said sharply. "I so dreffle hungly." "Yes, so am I. What are you going to do?" "Get down again. Injum no come now."
Lil fire two lil fire twent lil fire," he cried, excitedly. "'Mell um cook suffum. Come 'long, Mass' George, I dreffle hungly."
"Shoot, shoot, shoot, lot time, an' no shoot nuffum to eat. Pomp dreffle hungly." "There's plenty of bread," I said, smiling at the boy's utter unconcern about our position of peril. "Yah, 'tuff! Nas' 'tuff. Pomp too dreffle hungly eat any more bread. Why no go now and kill all Injum? Pomp fine de way."
"That's a nice lot of trash fur a galoot ter have in his pockets," he declared, looking at the pile in disgust. "What are you doing with a dead mouse in your pockets?" "Me feel lat me might git tee hungly some time, and len me have lillee bite to eatee," replied Hop, looking very innocent. The outlaws grinned at this.
Mike looked her over carefully and nodded his head with understanding as he spoke to himself while loosing the spring on the trap. "Her got cubs at home in her cave. Her hungly an' hunt eats for her babbies. Mike mus' hunt for babbies an' carry home to feed."
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