it naradys. Waw, the aw
seas is wuss pleest nor Piccadilly Suckus. If aw was to do orn thet
there Hetlentic Howcean the things aw did as a bwoy in the Worterleoo
Rowd, awd ev maw air cat afore aw could turn maw ed. Pawrit be
blaowed!--awskink yr pawdn, gavner. Nah, jest to shaow you ah little
thet there striteforard man y' mide mention on knaowed wot e was atorkin
abaht: oo would you spowse was the marster to wich Kepn Brarsbahnd
served apprentice, as yr mawt sy?

RANKIN. I don't know.

DRINKWATER. Gawdn, gavner, Gawdn. Gawdn o Kawtoom--stetcher stends in
Trifawlgr Square to this dy. Trined Bleck Pakeetow in smawshin hap the
slive riders, e did. Promist Gawdn e wouldn't never smaggle slives nor
gin, an (with suppressed aggravation) WOWN'T, gavner, not if we gows
dahn on ahr bloomin bended knees to im to do it.

RANKIN (drily). And DO ye go down on your bended knees to him to do it?

DRINKWATER (somewhat abashed). Some of huz is hanconverted men, gavner;
an they sy: You smaggles wanne thing, Kepn; waw not hanather?

RANKIN. We've come to it at last. I thought so. Captain Brassbound is a
smuggler.

DRINKWATER. Weoll, waw not? Waw not, gavner? Ahrs is a Free Tride
nition. It gows agin us as Hinglishmen to see these bloomin furriners
settin ap their Castoms Ahses and spheres o hinfluence and sich lawk
hall owver Arfricar. Daown't Harfricar belong as much to huz as to them?
thet's wot we sy. Ennywys, there ynt naow awm in ahr business. All we
daz is hescort, tourist HOR commercial. Cook's hexcursions to the Hatlas
Mahntns: thet's hall it is. Waw, it's spreadin civlawzytion, it is. Ynt
it nah?

RANKIN. You think Captain Brassbound's crew sufficiently equipped for
that, do you?

DRINKWATER. Hee-quipped! Haw should think sow. Lawtnin rawfles, twelve
shots in the meggezine! Oo's to storp us?

RANKIN. The most dangerous chieftain in these parts, the Sheikh Sidi el
Assif, has a new American machine pistol which fires ten bullets without
loadin; and his rifle has sixteen shots in the magazine.

DRINKWATER (indignantly). Yuss; an the people that sells sich
things into the ends o' them eathen bleck niggers calls theirseolves
Christians! It's a crool shime, sow it is.

RANKIN. If a man has the heart to pull the trigger, it matters little
what color his hand is, Mr. Drinkwotter. Have ye anything else to say to
me this afternoon?

DRINKWATER (rising). Nathink, gavner, cept to wishyer the bust o yolth,
and a many cornvert