"Snarleyyow," replied Smallbones, mournfully.
"Yes--mein Gott!" exclaimed Corporal Van Spitter, attempting to rise on
his legs.
"Whew!" whistled Jemmy Ducks--but nobody else uttered a sound; they all
looked at one another, some with compressed lips, others with mouths
open. At last one shook his head--then another. The corporal rose on his
feet and shook himself like an elephant.
"Dat tog is de tyfel's imp, and dat's de end on it," said he, with alarm
still painted on his countenance.
"And is he really on board again?" inquired Coble, doubtingly.
"As sartin as I stands on this here forecastle--a-kissing and slobbering
the lieutenant for all the world like a Christian," replied Smallbones,
despondingly.
"Then he flare fire on me wid his one eye," said the corporal.
"Warn't even wet," continued Smallbones.
Here there was another summons for Corporal Van Spitter.
"Mein Gott, I will not go," exclaimed the corporal.
"Yes, yes, go, corporal," replied Smallbones; "it's the best way to face
the devil."
"Damn the devil!--and that's not swearing," exclaimed Short--such a long
sentence out of his mouth was added to the marvels of the night--some
even shrugged up their shoulders at that, as if it also were
supernatural.
Pages:
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263