"Miquelon boat from St.
Malo." The farmer had a weatherly sea-eye.

"I'm most outer 'baccy, too, Disko." "Same here," said Tom Platt.

"Hi! Backez vouz--backez vouz! Standez awayez, you butt-ended mucho-bono! Where you from--St.Malo, eh ?" Ah, ha! Mucho bono! Oui! oui! Clos Poulet--St.Malo! St.Pierre et Miquelon," cried the other crowd, waving woollen caps and laughing.
Then all together, "Bord! Bord!" "Bring up the board, Danny.

Beats me how them Frenchmen fetch anywheres, exceptin' America's fairish broadly.

Forty-six forty-nine's good enough fer them; an' I guess it's abaout right, too." Dan chalked the figures on the board, and they hung it in the main-rigging to a chorus of mercis from the bark.
"Seems kinder unneighbourly to let 'em swedge off like this," Salters suggested, feeling in his pockets.
"Hev ye learned French then sence last trip' ?" said Disko.