SIMPSON, MYSELF AND THE PERSONAGE. 109 



attract his attention, and then turned and ran 

 like a gallied whale. 



The Personage dashed after me, Rudder 

 Simpson dashed after the Personage, and the 

 round-shouldered alley-owner dashed after Rudder 

 Simpson. I led my excited followers a swift chase 

 across the patio, plunged headlong through the 

 posado and brought up in the street. Once there 

 I dropped the poncho, and just as I did so, the 

 agile Simpson landed a merciless right-swing on 

 the Chileno's starboard ear. 



Neither the stoop-shouldered proprietor nor the 

 eighteen-year-old cabin-boy cared to get mixed up 

 in the row, so we two stood well back from the 

 mill. We were not alone, however, for the battle 

 was no more than joined when up came a dozen 

 sailors from various ships in the harbor. 



" I sy," bawled a ruddy Cockney, " 'ere's a 

 bloody row the syme as a bloody bull-fight ! 

 Wat's on ? " 



"'It 'im, Yank, 'it 'im bloomin' 'ard ! " 



"Avast ! " cried a Nantucket whaleman. "His 

 chimney's afire ! He's spoutin' blood ! It's his 

 flurry ! " 



"No, 'taint; he's only a little groggy. There, 

 my hearties, bring the claret — give away, 

 boys ! " 



