"No, no, Ralph," said he, "you must not think of running away here.

Among some of the groups of islands you might do so with safety, but if you tried it here you would find that you had jumped out of the fryin' pan into the fire." "How so, Bill ?" said I, "would the natives not receive me ?" "That they would, lad; but they would eat you too." "Eat me!" said I in surprise, "I thought the South Sea islanders never ate anybody except their enemies." "Humph!" ejaculated Bill.

"I s'pose 'twas yer tender-hearted friends in England that put that notion into your head.

There's a set o' soft-hearted folk at home that I knows on, who don't like to have their feelin's ruffled, and when you tell them anything they don't like--that shocks them, as they call it--no matter how true it be, they stop their ears and cry out, 'Oh, that is _too_ horrible! We can't believe that!' An' they say truth.

They can't believe it 'cause they won't believe it.
Now, I believe there's thousands o' the people in England who are sich born drivellin' _won't-believers_ that they think the black fellows hereaway, at the worst, eat an enemy only now an' then, out o' spite; whereas, I know for certain, and many captains of the British and American navies know as well as me, that the Feejee islanders eat not only their enemies but one another; and they do it not for spite, but for pleasure.