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"Far nientes, sir; which is a nickname we give these siesta-gentry, you know, Captain Cuffe." "I know nothing about it, sir, and I'll thank you always to speak to me in English, Mr. Griffin. That is a language which I flatter myself I understand, and it's quite good enough for all my wants." "Yes, sir, and for any man's wants.
I guess every man is privileged to get just about so sore on the weather wherever he is and does so." "You been out there long?" asked Bob. "Ever since I graduated," returned Baker promptly, "and I wouldn't live anywhere else. They're doing real things. Don't you run away with any notions of dolce far nientes or tropical languor. This California gang is strictly on the job.
"But did you see nothing of all this?" "The first I knew of the matter, sir, was seeing the lugger gliding along under the rocks so close in that you might have jumped aboard her; and it was too late to stop her. Before those lazy far nientes could have pricked and primed, she was out of gun-shot." "Lazy what?" demanded the captain.
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