Judge, then, of Kooloo's esteem. Nor is the allusion
to the ciphers at all inappropriate, seeing that, in themselves,
Kooloo's profession turned out to be worthless. He was, alas! as
sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal; one of those who make no music
unless the clapper be silver.
In the course of a few days, the sailors, like the doctor and myself,
were cajoled out of everything, and our "tayos," all round, began to
cool off quite sensibly. So remiss did they become in their
attentions that we could no longer rely upon their bringing us the
daily supply of food, which all of them had faithfully promised.
As for Kooloo, after sponging me well, he one morning played the part
of a retrograde lover; informing me that his affections had undergone
a change; he had fallen in love at first sight with a smart sailor,
who had just stepped ashore quite flush from a lucky whaling-cruise.
It was a touching interview, and with it, our connection dissolved.
But the sadness which ensued would soon have been dissipated, had not
my sensibilities been wounded by his indelicately sporting some of my
gifts very soon after this transfer of his affections. Hardly a day
passed that I did not meet him on the Broom Road, airing himself in a
regatta shirt which I had given him in happier hours.
