king, but they took and shut him up in jail, and some say he died there.
"Po' little chap."
"But some says be gut out and got away, and come to America."
"Dat's good! But he'll be pooty lonesome—dey ain' no kings here, is dey, Huek?"
"No."
"Den he cain't git no situation, What he gwyne to do?"
"Well, I don't know. Some of them gets on the police, and some of them learns people how to talk French."
"Why, Huck, doan' de French people talk de same way we does?"
"No, Jim; you couldn't understand a word they said—not a single word."
"Well, now, I be ding-busted! How do dat come?"
"I don't know; but it's so. I got some of their jabber out of a book. S'pose a man was to come to you and say Polly-voo-franzy—what would you think?"
"I wouldn' think nuffn; I'd take en bust him over de head. Dad is, if he warn't white. I wouldn't 'low no nigger to call me dat."
"Shacks, it ain't calling you anything. It's only saying do you know how to talk French."
"Well, den, why couldn't he say it?"
"Why, he is a-saying it. That's a Frenchman's way of saying it."
"Well, it's a blame' ridicklous way, en I doan' want to hear no mo' 'bout it. Dey ain' no sense in it."
"Looky here, Jim; does a cat talk like we do?"
"No, a cat don't."
"Well, does a cow?"
"No, a cow don't, nuther."
