It was offensive, true, but what could poor sea-cunies do?
What could old Johannes Maartens do, with a bevy of laughing girls about him, tweaking his nose, pinching his arms, tickling his ribs till he pranced?
To escape such torment Hans Amden cleared a space and gave a clumsy-footed Hollandish breakdown till all the Court roared its laughter.
It was offensive to me who had been equal and boon companion of Kim for many days.

I resisted the laughing _ki-sang_.

I braced my legs and stood upright with folded arms; nor could pinch or tickle bring a quiver from me.

Thus they abandoned me for easier prey.
"For God's sake, man, make an impression," Hendrik Hamel, who had struggled to me with three _ki-sang_ dragging behind, mumbled.
Well might he mumble, for whenever he opened his mouth to speak they crammed it with sweets.
"Save us from this folly," he persisted, ducking his head about to avoid their sweet-filled palms.

"We must have dignity, understand, dignity.
This will ruin us.