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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 417 pages of information about The Pacha of Many Tales.

* * * * *

“Now, give the old gentleman the small change of that, while I just wet my whistle.”

Mustapha having interpreted, and the sailor having taken a swig at the bottle, he proceeded.

* * * * *

We didn’t much like having these French beggars on board, and it wasn’t without reason, for they were as many as we were.  The very first night they were overheard by a negro who belonged to us, and had learnt French, making a plan for overpowering us, and taking possession of the vessel; so when we heard that, their doom was sealed.  We mustered ourselves on the deck, put the hatches over some o’ the French, seized those on deck, and—­in half an hour, they all walked the plank.

* * * * *

“I do not understand what you mean,” said Mustapha.

“That’s ’cause you’re a lubber of a landsman.  The long and short of walking a plank is just this.  We passed a wide plank over the gunnel, greasing it well at the outer end, led the Frenchmen up to it blindfolded, and wished them ‘bon voyage,’ in their own lingo, just out of politeness.  They walked on till they toppled into the sea, and the sharks didn’t refuse them, though they prefer a nigger to anything else.”

“What does he say, Mustapha?” interrupted the pacha.  Mustapha interpreted.

“Good; I should like to have seen that,” replied the pacha.

* * * * *

Well, as soon as we were rid of the Frenchmen, we made our port, and soon had another cargo on board, and, after a good run, got safe to the Havannah, where we sold our slaves; but I didn’t much like the sarvice, so I cut the schooner, and sailed home in summer, and got back safe to England.  There I fell in with Betsy, and as she proved a regular out-and-outer, I spliced her; and a famous wedding we had of it, as long as the rhino lasted; but that wasn’t long, the more’s the pity; so I went to sea for more.  When I came back after my trip, I found that Bet hadn’t behaved quite so well as she might have done, so I cut my stick, and went away from her altogether.

* * * * *

“Why didn’t you put her in a sack?” inquired the pacha, when Mustapha explained.

“Put her head in a bag—­no, she wasn’t so ugly as all that,” replied the sailor.  “Howsomever, to coil away.”

* * * * *

I joined a privateer brig, and after three cruises I had plenty of money, and determined to have another spell on shore, that I might get rid of it.  Then I picked up Sue, and spliced again; but, Lord bless your heart, she turned out a regular-built Tartar—­nothing but fight fight, scratch scratch, all day long, till I wished her at old Scratch.  I was tired of her, and Sue had taken a fancy to another chap; so says she one day, “As we both be of the same mind, why don’t you sell me, and then we may part in a respectable manner.”  I agrees, and I puts a halter round her neck, and leads her to the market-place, the chap following to buy her.

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