Mr. Glass I Found An
Exceedingly Neat, Well-Educated M'pongwe Gentleman In Irreproachable
English Garments, And With Irreproachable, But Slightly Floreate,
English Language.
We started talking trade, with my band in the
middle of the street; making a patch of uproar in the moonlit
surrounding silence.
As soon as we thought we had got one
gentleman's mind settled as to what goods he would take his pay in,
and were proceeding to investigate another gentleman's little
fancies, gentleman number one's mind came all to pieces again, and
he wanted "to room his bundle," i.e. change articles in it for other
articles of an equivalent value, if it must be, but of a higher, if
possible. Oh ye shopkeepers in England who grumble at your lady
customers, just you come out here and try to serve, and satisfy a
set of Fans! Mr. Glass was evidently an expert at the affair, but
it was past 11 p.m. before we got the orders written out, and
getting my baggage into some canoes, that Mr. Glass had brought down
from Agonjo, for N'dorko only had a few very wretched ones, I
started off up river with him and all the Ajumba, and Kiva, the Fan,
who had been promised a safe conduct. He came to see the bundles
for his fellow Fans were made up satisfactorily. The canoes being
small there was quite a procession of them. Mr. Glass and I shared
one, which was paddled by two small boys; how we ever got up the
Rembwe that night I do not know, for although neither of us were
fat, the canoe was a one man canoe, and the water lapped over the
edge in an alarming way.
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