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"I wouldn't be so ready to claim it, if I were you," he said, knowing that the other might not understand the words but could tell the tone. "What are you going to do?" queried the restaurant-keeper in a hoarse whisper. "They will kill-a me!" Hamilton thought hard for a moment or two.
"Well but, Monsieur le count, is it not CRUEL to kill the poor fellows notwithstanding?" "Pooh!" replied the count, throwing back his head, and puffing out his cheeks as when a cigar sucker explodes a cataract of smoke from the crater of his throat; "cruel! vat cruel for kill-a de soldier! by gar, Monsieur le colonel, you make-a de king of France laugh he hear-a you talk after dat fashong.
"Hi!" says I. "How do you get this giraffe of yours under way?" She held up the decoys. "Who kill-a dem ducks?" says she. I p'inted to the reverend. "He did," says I. And then I cal'late I must have had one of them things they call an inspiration. "And he's willing to pay for 'em," I says. "Pay thirty-five dolla?" says she. "You bet!" says I. But I'd forgot Clarissa.
Well den, now, Monsieur le colonel, you hear-a me speak my French-a-mans eat dem Jack Engleesh all same like vun leetle frog." "Oh to be sure! no doubt of all that, Monsieur le count but before we eat them up, they may kill a great many of our soldiers." "Dey kill-a de soldier!" replied the passionate count "well what den if dey do kill-a de soldier!
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