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Updated: June 16, 2025
"And when these Bunkers go back North," put in Frane, Junior, "they are going to look for Sneezer everywhere." "You reckon you'll find him?" asked Mammy June of Rose. "I hope so," said the oldest Bunker girl. "Of course we will," agreed Russ stoutly. "And Daddy Bunker will look out for him too. He said so."
It may work wonders. "'Hoor-rash-o! says the Major, comin' to a sittin' position. 'Hoor-rash-o! says he again, and then he went off like a pack of firecrackers. A sneeze wouldn't more'n get fairly started before another'd explode in the middle of it. And the Major was as powerful a sneezer as he was talker. Gee! them bass sneezes of his sounded like a freight-engine exhaust.
"Well," would be his jovial salutation, "here's a sneezer!" And the look of these warm fellows is tonic, and upholds their drooping fellow-townsmen. There is yet another class who do not depend on corporal advantages, but support the winter in virtue of a brave and merry heart.
Mammy June shook her head somewhat sadly. "Dat boy always have to wo'k," she said. "When first he went away he sent me back money by mail. The man he wo'ked for sent it. Then Sneezer losed his job. But he never learnt to read hand-writin'. Much as he could do to spell out the big print on the front of the newspapers. That's surely so!"
"Sneezer, my boy, what have you to say where have you come from?" He looked in the direction of the door, and then walked deliberately towards it, and tried to open it with his paws.
The poor old woman's anxiety should be relieved, and the two oldest of the Bunker children were determined that they would relieve it regarding her son, "Sneezer," if that were possible. So Russ found some cardboard boxes that had held certain of their Christmas presents, and he tore these apart and they wrote carefully a message to the old woman's absent son on both faces of these cards.
"Of course he was. Or he couldn't dance this way," and Russ tried to cut the pigeon wing again. "Wait! Wait!" gasped the old woman. "Tell me mo' about that boy who showed you. You ain't got it right. But dat's the way my Sneezer done it. Only he knows just how." "Why, Mammy June!" cried Rose, "you don't suppose that Sam can dance just like your Sneezer?"
I was fairly beginning to lose countenance, when up jumped Sneezer to my relief out of the boat, with an old cocked hat lashed on his head, a marine's jacket buttoned round his body, and his coalblack muzzle bedaubed with pipe clay, regularly monkeyfied, the momentary handiwork of some wicked little reefers, while a small pipe sung out quietly, as if not intended to reach the quarterdeck, although it did do so, "And here comes the last joint of Mr Cringle's Tail."
So I scrambled up after the pilot to the top of the fence, with a loaded pistol in my hand, a young active Spaniard following with a large brown wax candle, that burned like a torch; and looking down on the melee below, there Sneezer lay with the throat of the leopard in his jaws, evidently much exhausted, but still giving the creature a cruel shake now and then, while Mangrove was endeavouring to throttle the brute with his bare hands.
"Oh, John Bull, John Bull, when you are full rigged, with your white cravat and white waistcoat like Young England, and have got your go-to-meetin' clothes on, if you ain't a sneezer, it's a pity, that's all. No, I ain't a vain man, I despise it, as I do a nigger; but, Squire, what a glorious field the subject to-night is for a man that knows what's what, and was up to snuff, ain't it?
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