anion.

That eccentric individual suddenly checked his groans, gave vent to a
long, deep sigh, and assuming a resigned expression of countenance, rose
up and said--"Ho! It all ober now, massa."

"I do believe," remarked Rokens, looking gravely at his shipmate, "that
the feller's had an attack of the mollygrumbles, an's got better all of
a suddint."

"No, massa, dat not it. But me willin' to go wid you now to de sea."

"Eh? willin' to go? Why, Nippi-Too-Cumble, wot a rum customer you are,
to be sure!"

"Yis, massa," rejoined the negro. "Me not goin' to be king now, anyhow;
so it ob no use stoppin' here. Me go to sea."

"Not goin' to be king? How d'ye know that?"

"'Cause dat oder nigger, him be made king in a berry short time. You
mus' know, dat w'en dey make wan king in dis here place, de peeple
choose de man; but dey not let him know. He may guess if him please--
like me--but p'raps him guess wrong--like me! Ho! ho! Den arter dey
fix on de man, dey run at him and kick him, as you hab seen dem do, and
spit on him, and trow mud ober him, tellin' him all de time, `You no
king yet, you black rascal; you soon be king, and den you may put your
foots on our necks and do w'at you like, but not yit; take dat, you
tief!' An' so dey 'buse him for a littel time. Den dey take him
straight away to de palace and crown him, an', oh! arter dat dey become
very purlite to him. Him know dat well 'nuff, and so him not be angry
just now. Ah! me did 'xpec, to hab bin kick and spitted on dis berry
day!"

Poor Neepeelootambo uttered the last words in such a deeply touching
tone, and seemed to be so much cast down at the thought that his chance
of being "kicked and spitted upon" had passed away for ever, that Phil
Briant burst into a hearty fit of laughter, and Tim Rokens exhibited
symptoms of internal risibility, though his outward physiognomy remained
unchanged.

"Och! Bumble, you'll be the death o' me," cried Briant. "An' are they
a-crownin' of him now?"

"Yis, massa. Dat what dey go for to do jist now."

"Troth, then, I'll go an' inspict the coronation. Come along, Bumble,
me darlint, and show us the way."

In a few minutes Neepeelootambo conducted his new friends into a large
rudely-constructed hut, which was open on three sides and thatched with
palm-leaves. This was the palace before referred to by him. Here they
found a large concourse of negroes, whose main object at that time
seemed to be the creati