about the science of it, d'ee see; but I can use my fists after a fashion."
"Good," continued the Moor. "Well, then, we fights till all our eyes is black, an' all our noses is red, an' some of our teeths is out, but the sailirs wos too many for us. We wos 'bleeged to gif in, for wot kin courage do agin numbers? so we wos took aboord a friggit and 'zamined."
"An' what?" asked the seaman.
"'Zamined. Overhauled," replied the Moor.
"Oh! examined, I see. Well?"
"Well, I feels sure of git hofif, bein' a Algerine Moor, so w'en my turn comes, I says to the hofficer wot 'zamined us, says I, 'I's not a Breetish man!'
"'Wot are you, then?' says the hofficer.
"'I's a Moor,' says I.
"'Moor's the pity,' says he."
Ted gave a short laugh at this.
"Now, that's strange," observed All, glancing at his companion in some surprise; "that's 'zactly wot they all did w'en the hofficer says that! I've thought oftin 'bout it since, but never could see wot they laugh at."
"Oh, it's just a way we've got," returned Flaggan, resuming his gravity; "the English have a knack o' larfin', off and on, w'en they shouldn't ought to.—Git along with your yarn."
F
