e skipper, who had recovered neither his spirits nor his self-respect
since his recent fall, preferred to remain on deck. Billy, who had
never lost either, joined the revellers below--with all the more
satisfaction that Evan, the rescued mate of the _Sparrow_, was with
them.
"Out o' the road, Zulu," cried Ned Spivin, pushing the cook aside, and
sitting down close to the fire, "I'll have a bit o' fish."
He stuck on the end of his knife a piece of sole, out of which the life
had barely departed, and held it up before the fire to roast.
"Hand me a mug o' tea, an' a biscuit, Zulu," said Joe Davidson; "fill it
up, boy. I like good measure."
"Are them taters ready?" asked Luke Trevor. "An' the plum-duff? You
haven't got any for us to-day, have 'ee?"
"Shut up!" cried Zulu. "How many hands you tink I've got?"
"Eight at the very least," said Spivin, "an' I can prove it."
"How you do dat?" asked Zulu, opening up his great eyes.
"Easy. Hold out your paws. Isn't that one hand?" (pointing to his
left.)
"Yes."
"An' doesn't that make two hands?" (pointing to his right.)
"Yes."
"Well, ain't one hand and two hands equal to three hands, you booby? an'
don't you know that monkeys have hands instead o' feet? So as you're a
monkey, that's six hands. And haven't you a handsome face, an' a
handsome figgur, which is eight, you grampus! Come, use one o' your
many hands an' pass the biscuits."
"Sartinly!" said Zulu, at once kicking a small bit of biscuit which
Spivin still held in his hand to the other end of the cabin, where it
fell into the lap of Trevor, who thanked Zulu kindly, and ate it up.
"Oh! forgib me, massa," cried Zulu, in mock repentance. "I's nebber
nebber do it again! But you know you ax me to use one o' my hands to
pass de biskit. Well, I 'bey orders. I use 'im, an' pass de biskit on
to Luke."
"Come, Ned, Zulu's more than a match for you there. Let him alone,"
cried Joe Davidson, "and don't be so stingy with your sugar, Zulu.
Here, fill up again."
The conversation at this point became what is sometimes styled general,
but was interrupted now and then, as one and another of the men dropped
into the anecdotal tone, and thus secured undivided attention for a
longer or shorter space according to his powers in story-telling.
"What a appetite you've got, Luke," said Joe, as he helped his comrade
to a second large plateful of salt beef, potatoes, and duff.
"Hold on, Joe! I've a
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