and munching as they looked. Even as a poor brown Pyrenean bear dances in the streets of English towns under his master's baton; even so, but with how much more of spirit and precision, the captain footed it in time to his own whistling, and his long morning shadow capered beyond him on the grass. The Kanakas smiled on this performance; Herrick looked on heavy-eyed, hunger for the moment conquering all sense of shame; and a little farther off, but still hard by, the clerk was torn by the seven devils of the influenza.
The captain stopped suddenly, appeared to perceive his audience for the first time, and represented the part of a man surprised in his private hour of pleasure.
'Hello!' said he.
The Kanakas clapped hands and called upon him to go on.
'No, sir!' said the captain. 'No eat, no dance. Savvy?'
'Poor old man!' returned one of the crew. 'Him no eat?'
'Lord, no!' said the captain. 'Like-um too much eat. No got.'
'All right. Me got,' said the sailor; 'you tome here. Plenty toffee, plenty fei. Nutha man him tome too.'
