Blue Jackets Part 4

Smith put down his chopsticks. I had already laid down mine.

"What's the matter?" said Barkins, who kept on suspiciously turning over the contents of his saucer.

"He means rat," whispered Smith in an awful tone.

"What!" cried Barkins, pus.h.i.+ng himself back with a comical look of disgust upon his face.

"Yes, lat," said Ching. "Velly good fat lat."

Our faces were a study. At least I know that my companions' were; and we were perfectly silent while our guide kept on making a sound with his mouth as he supped up the rich gravy.

"Here, hold hard a minute," said Smith. "I mean you, Ching."

"Yes?" said the Chinaman, with a pleasant smile; and he crossed his chopsticks, and looked at our brother middy inquiringly.

"What was that we were eating a little while ago?"

"Cluc.u.mber; velly good."

"No, no; before that."

"Birds'-ness soup; velly cost much. Not all birds'-ness. Some shark-fis' fin."

"I don't mean that, I tell you," cried Smith in an exasperated tone of voice. "I mean that other brown meat cut up small into the brown sauce.

It was rabbit, wasn't it?"

"Oh no," said Ching decisively; "no labbit. Lit' mince-up pup-dog.

Nicee nicee."

Smith turned green, and his eyes rolled so that he actually squinted; while Barkins uttered a low sound-like gasp. As for me, I felt as I remember feeling after partaking meekly of what one of my aunts used to call prune tea--a decoction made by boiling so many French plums along with half an ounce of senna leaves.

"Oh gracious!" murmured Barkins; while Smith uttered a low groan.

"You both likee more?" said Ching blandly.

"No!" they cried so unanimously that it was like one voice; and in spite of my own disgust and unpleasant sensations I felt as if I must laugh at them.

"Oh, mawkish morsels!" muttered Barkins.

"You feel you have 'nuff?" said Ching, smiling. "Oh no. Loas' suck-pig come soon. You eat velly much more."

"Not if I know it," whispered Smith to me. "I don't believe it'll be pig."

"What then?" I whispered back.

"Kid."

"Well, kid's nice."

"Get out! I meant baby."

"Ugh! Don't."

"It's too late to say don't," groaned Smith. "We've done it."

"Hold up, old chap," I whispered. "Everybody's looking at you."

"Let 'em," he groaned. "Oh, I do feel so ill!"

"Nonsense! Look at Tanner."

He turned his wild eyes upon Barkins, whose aspect was ludicrous enough to make him forget his own sensations, and he smiled a peculiarly saddened, pensive smile; for our messmate was leaning towards Ching.

"Don't eat any more of that," he said faintly.

"Eat um all up; velly good."

"Can one get a drop of brandy here?"

"Dlop blandy? No. Velly nicee 'lack."

"What's 'lack?"

"No, no 'lack! lice spilit."

"'Rack!" I said--"arrack?"

"Yes, allack," said Ching, nodding.

"Let's have some--a gla.s.s each," said Barkins; "and look sharp."

Ching summoned one of the smiling waiters, and the order was given.

Then for the first time he noticed that we had not finished the contents of our little saucers.

"No eat lat?" he cried.

I shook my head.

"Velly good!"

"We're not quite well," said Smith.

"Been out in the sun too much," added Barkins.

"Ah, sun too much bad! Lit' dlop spilit make quite well. No eat lat?"

"No, no!" we cried in chorus.

"Velly good," said our guide; and in alarm lest such a delicacy should be wasted, he drew first one and then the other saucer over to his side, and finished their contents.