"Egad!" said he, staring at Barnabas with his blue eyes. "What's in
the wind? I say, what the devil, sir--eh, sir?"
Forthwith Barnabas beamed upon him, and swept him another bow almost
as low as that he had bestowed upon the gate-post.
"Sir," said he, hat gracefully flourished in the air, "your very
humble obedient servant to command."
"A humble obedient fiddlestick, sir!" retorted the new comer.
"Pooh, sir!--I say dammit!--are ye mad, sir, to go bowing and
scraping to a gate-post, as though it were an Admiral of the Fleet
or Nelson himself--are ye mad or only drunk, sir? I say, what d' ye
mean?"
Here Barnabas put on his hat and opened the book.
"Plainly, sir," he answered, "being overcome with a sudden desire to
bow to something or other, I bowed to that gate-post in want of a
worthier object; but now, seeing you arrive so very opportunely, I'
11 take the liberty of trying another. Oblige me by observing if my
expression is sufficiently engaging," and with the words Barnabas
bowed as elaborately as before.
"Sink me!" exclaimed the one-armed individual, rounder of eye than
ever, "the fellow's mad--stark, staring mad.
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