"Where Be Your Husband, Ma?" Was
The Next Conversational Bomb He Hurled At Me.
"I no got one," I
answer.
"No got," says Samuel, paralysed with astonishment; and as
Mrs. S., who did not know English, gave one of her vigorous drives
with her paddle at this moment, Samuel as near as possible got
jerked head first into the Ogowe, and we took on board about two
bucketfuls of water. He recovered himself, however and returned to
his charge. "No got one, ma?" "No," say I furiously. "Do you get
much rubber round here?" "I no be trade man," says Samuel, refusing
to fall into my trap for changing conversation. "Why you no got
one?" The remainder of the conversation is unreportable, but he
landed me at Andande all right, and got his dollar.
The next voyage I made, which was on the next day, I decided to go
by myself to the factory, which is on the other side of the island,
and did so. I got some goods to buy fish with, and heard from Mr.
Cockshut that the poor boy-agent at Osoamokita, had committed
suicide. It was a grievous thing. He was, as I have said, a
bright, intelligent young Frenchman; but living in the isolation,
surrounded by savage, tiresome tribes, the strain of his
responsibility had been too much for him. He had had a good deal of
fever, and the very kindly head agent for Woermann's had sent Dr.
Pelessier to see if he had not better be invalided home; but he told
the Doctor he was much better, and as he had no one at home to go to
he begged him not to send him, and the Doctor, to his subsequent
regret, gave in.
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