gan. At
this pint Samson got up an' went out o' the hut. In a minute or so he
came back with a bark basket quite shallow, but about fourteen inches
square, an' full of all kinds of eggs--for the wild-birds was breedin'
at the time. `What's that for?' says we. `For Glutton, when he's ready
for 'em,' says he. `There's six dozen here, an' if that don't do it,
I've got another basket ready outside.' With that he sets the basket
down in front o' the Injin, who just gave a glance at it over a goose
drumstick he was tearin' away at. Well, Samson turned round to sit down
in his place again, when somethin' or other caught hold of his foot
tripped him up, an' down he sat squash! into the basket of eggs. You
niver did see sich a mess! There was sich a lot, an' Samson was so
heavy, that the yolks squirted up all round him, an' a lot of it went
slap into some of our faces. For one moment we sat glarin', we was so
took by surprise, and Glutton was so tickled that he gave a great roar
of laughter, an' swayed himself from side to side, an' fore an' aft like
a Dutchman in a cross sea. Of course we joined him. We couldn't help
it, but we was brought up in the middle by Samson sayin', while he
scraped himself, `Well, boys, I've won.' `Won!' says I, `how so? He
ain't bu'sted yet.' `Hasn't he?' cried Samson. `Hasn't he gone on
eatin' till he bu'sted out larfin?' We was real mad at 'im, for a'
course that wasn't the kind o' bu'stin we meant; and the end of it was,
that we spent the most o' that night disputin' the pint whether Samson
had lost or won. We continued the dispute every night for a month, an'
sometimes had a free fight over it by way of a change, but I don't think
it was ever settled. Leastways it wasn't up to the time when I left the
country."

"Here, Zulu, hand me a mug o' tea," said Billy Bright; "the biggest one
you've got."

"What's make you turn so greedy?" asked Zulu.

"It's not greed," returned Billy, "but Ned's little story is so hard an'
tough, that I can't get it down dry."

"I should think not. It would take the Glutton himself to swallow it
with a bucket of tea to wash it down," said Luke Trevor.

At this point the conversation was interrupted by an order from the
skipper to go on deck and "jibe" the smack, an operation which it would
be difficult, as well as unprofitable, to explain to landsmen. When it
was completed the men returned to the little cabin, where conversation
was resumed.

"