Part 36 (1/2)
”Please, Marster!”
”Now both together, and a little louder!”
”_Please, Marster_,” came the united chorus.
”Now what kind of a dog did I say you are?”
”The kind as comes when his marster calls.”
”Both together--the under dog seems to have too much cover, like his mouth might be full of cotton.”
They repeated it louder.
”A common--stump-tailed--cur-dog?”
”Yessir.”
”Say it.”
”A common--stump-tailed--cur-dog--Marster!”
”A pair of them.”
”A pair of 'em.”
”No, the whole thing--all together--'we--are--a--pair!'”
”Yes--Marster.” They repeated it in chorus.
”With apologies to the dogs----”
”Apologies to the dogs----”
”And why does your master honour the kennel with his presence to-day?”
”He hit a n.i.g.g.e.r on the head so hard that he strained the n.i.g.g.e.r's ankle, and he's restin' from his labours.”
”That's right, Towser. If I had you and Tige a few hours every day I could make good squirrel-dogs out of you.”
There was a pause. Phil looked up and smiled.
”What does it sound like?” asked the Captain, with a shade of doubt in his voice.
”Sounds to me like a Sunday-school teacher taking his cla.s.s through a new catechism.”
The Captain fumbled hurriedly for his keys.
”There's something wrong in there.”
He opened the door and sprang in.