The Ebb-Tide


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'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.'  
'I guess we'll drop right in,' observed the captain; and he and his  
companions hastened up the plank. They were welcomed on board with the  
shaking of hands; place was made for them about the basin; a sticky  
demijohn of molasses was added to the feast in honour of company, and  
an accordion brought from the forecastle and significantly laid by the  
performer's side.  
'Ariana,' said he lightly, touching the instrument as he spoke; and  
he fell to on a long savoury fei, made an end of it, raised his mug of  
coffee, and nodded across at the spokesman of the crew. 'Here's your  
health, old man; you're a credit to the South Pacific,' said he.  
With the unsightly greed of hounds they glutted themselves with the hot  
food and coffee; and even the clerk revived and the colour deepened in  
his eyes. The kettle was drained, the basin cleaned; their entertainers,  
who had waited on their wants throughout with the pleased hospitality of  
Polynesians, made haste to bring forward a dessert of island tobacco and  
rolls of pandanus leaf to serve as paper; and presently all sat about  
the dishes puffing like Indian Sachems.  
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