"Plentee liver, plenty cleek, plenty hide away." "Then we shall never catch them ?" I said.
"Ching wantee catchee, wantee plenty money; but pilate won't come.
Pilate 'flaid." "And I suppose, as soon as we go away, they'll come out and attack the first merchantman that comes along the coast." "Yes," said Ching coolly; "cut allee boy float, settee fire junk, burnee ship." "Then what's to be done ?" I said.

"It's very disappointing." "Ching go back fancee shop; no catchee pilate, no plize-money." "Oh, but we shall drop upon them some day." "No dlop upon pilate.

Ching not captain.

Ching catchee." "How ?" I said.
"Take big ship back to liver.

Put big gun, put jolly sailor 'board two big junk, and go sail 'bout.