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Updated: June 22, 2025
I spoke to the king about it, and Old Dibs he complained to Iosefo, but it only seemed to whoop it up and add to the procession.
He always come back from them visits with a ruminating look in his eye, and the first thing he did was to make a bee line for his room, like somebody might have been tampering with his trunks. Finally one day he took me aside and said: "Bill, that Iosefo is a very agreeable man, and if it would be the same to you, I'd like to have him a little about the house." "Why, Mr.
Iosefo was no slouch when he once got his hand in, and carried it over to the next number like a story in a magazine, the Kanakas all going out buzzing, wishing it was Sunday week, and eyeing Old Dibs with veneration. The platform was number two on the list, and me and Tom, with the measurements we had taken in the tree, made a very neat job of it, and painted it green topside and bottom.
He told the pastor he was afraid of his life of Tom and me, and if it wasn't for Iosefo he would be fearful to stay in my house a minute; and he told Tom he was the only friend he had; and then said the same to me, warning me against Tom and Iosefo, saying they were at the winder every night trying to break in.
No; he paid Iosefo ten dollars a week, for what do you think? Yes, sir; nothing else than a squatting sentry, mounting guard over the boodle inside the trunk and protecting it from me! I wonder what the home missionary society would have said to see Brother Iosefo yawning all day on the top of a trunk, or writing his sermon on his knee, Saturdays!
When Iosefo reported next morning, Old Dibs paid him a hundred dollars and dispensed with his services, saying that though he'd always be glad to see him around as a friend, he had no more call to keep him sitting on the chest. This made Tom and me feel good, for it showed he trusted us now, which he had never quite done before.
The pastor did yeoman's service that day, and at sundown they all went back to their ship, very grumpy and dissatisfied, returning no wiser than when they'd come. Iosefo held a service afterwards to rub it in, and the king spoke at it, and likewise the chiefs, and so in our different ways we all pulled together for the common good.
Old Dibs sat there as smug as smug, little knowing how the agony was being piled on his bald head; and just when Iosefo was making him cow the lions with a glance, Old Dibs took the specs off his nose and wiped them, while everybody was worked up tremendous to know whether he had been eat or not.
Iosefo drew a fancy picture of Judas hanging himself, and brought it up to date with Old Dibs, and what a scaly thing it was to do anyway. He let himself rip in all directions, even to the persecutions in what he called the White Country, which he said Old Dibs had endured for religion's sake, and how he had been thrown to the lions in the Colossium.
That night they set a watch on my house and Tom's, the news coming in from Iosefo, who had spies out watching them. It was regular wheels within wheels, and I couldn't but wonder how poor Old Dibs was faring up his tree, waiting and waiting for us to come! The next day they prowled harder than ever, this time the crew joining in, mate, cook, cabin boy, and four hands.
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