"The Game Chicken," said Mr. Toots.
The Captain shaking his head, Mr. Toots explained that the man alluded to was the celebrated public character who had covered himself and his country with glory in his contest with the Nobby Shropshire One; but this piece of information did not appear to enlighten the Captain very much.
"Because he’s outside: that’s all," said Mr. Toots. "But it’s of no consequence; he won’t get very wet, perhaps."
"I can pass the word for him in a moment," said the Captain.
"Well, if you would have the goodness to let him sit in the shop with your young man," chuckled Mr. Toots, "I should be glad; because, you know, he’s easily offended, and the damp’s rather bad for his stamina. I ’ll call him in, Mr. Gills."
With that, Mr. Toots repairing to the shop-door, sent a peculiar whistle into the night, which produced a stoical gentleman in a shaggy white great-coat and a flat-brimmed hat, with very short hair, a broken nose, and a considerable tract of bare and sterile country behind each ear.
"Sit down, Chicken," said Mr. Toots.
The compliant Chicken spat out some small pieces of straw on which he was regaling himself, and took in a fresh supply from a reserve he carried in his hand.
"There ain’t no drain of nothing short handy, is there?" said the Chicken, generally. "This here sluicing night is hard lines to a man as lives on his condition."
Captain Cuttle proffered a glass of rum, which the Chicken, throwing back his head, emptied into himself, as into a cask, after proposing the brief sentiment, "Towards us!" Mr. Toots and the Captain returning then to the parlour, and taking their seats before the fire, Mr. Toots began:
"Mr. Gills—"
"Awast!" said the Captain. "My name’s Cuttle."
Mr. Toots looked greatly disconcerted, while the Captain proceeded gravely.
"Cap’en Cuttle is my name, and England is my nation, this here is my dwelling-place, and blessed be creation—Job," said the Captain, as an index to his authority.
"Oh! I couldn’t see Mr. Gills, could I?" said Mr. Toots; "because—"
"If you could see Sol Gills, young gen’l’m’n," said the Captain, impressively, and laying his heavy hand on Mr. Toots’s knee, "old Sol, mind you—with your own eyes—as you sit there—you’d be welcomer to me, than a wind astern, to a ship becalmed. But you can’t see Sol Gills. And why can’t you see Sol Gills?" said the Captain, apprised by the face of Mr. Toots that he was making a profound impression on that gentleman’s mind. "Because he’s inwisible."
Mr. Toots in his agitation was going to reply that it was of no consequence at all. But he corrected himself, and said, "Lor bless me!"
"That there man," said the Captain, "has left me in charge here by a piece of writing, but though he was a’most as good as my sworn brother, I know no more where he’s gone, or why he’s gone; if so be to seek his nevy, or if so be along of being not quite settled in his mind;
