92 The Wild-Fowlers 



must hev somethin' else, some steak, 

 an* tea, an* beans, an* pickles, an* cakes, 

 an* cetlus powders, an* jam, an* whis- 

 key, an* the tother nick-nacks city folks 

 like teh eat/' 



" Good boy, Captain! " shouted Seth 

 again, fairly convulsed with laughter at 

 the expression of Corbin's face when he 

 heard the bayman's new bill of fare. 



" Well," said the fat man, "by my 

 true word, Lieb " 



" Grieb, sir," the Captain said, mod- 

 estly correcting him; "hard name teh 

 'member; hev teh say it forty times a 

 hour teh new 'quaintances; 't ain't no 

 objection though/' 



" Grieb, yes, to be sure. Well, Grieb, 

 you 're a wonder, though we don't eat 

 cetlus powders. The Doctor, here, told 

 Mr. Fielding and me that you were a 

 sour old duffer, and we did 'most hate to 

 come down here at one time. Now, Doc- 

 tor, you owe the Captain an apology ; 

 he 's all right, eh, Seth? " But the Captain 





