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"Dave," said the wounded lieutenant, the next time the steward came into the room, "no more 'massa,' no more 'moggywompus,' no more 'done do it.' You know better than to use such expressions, and you are no longer a 'nigger;' you are the ship's steward of the Bronx."
āļ§āļīāđāļāļĢāļēāļ°āļŦāđ āļāļāļĨ 4 āļāļđāđ āđāļĄāđāļ "I will go below and see what can be done with them. I desire to make them as comfortable as possible, though I do not believe they will be satisfied with any location to which I may assign them." "Thank you, Dave." "I am glad to hear it, sir, for you appeared to be quite sick last night when you came on board," added the quartermaster. He bowed submissively, and went to his berth in the men's quarters. The anchor had been cast loose, and the cable put in condition to run out. Christy had hardly reached his berth before he heard the rattle of the chain, and the voyage was ended.