But as an example of what you mean--" "Why, Signore, here are several words that I have written on this bit of paper, which sound nearly alike, though, as you perceive, they are quite differently spelled.

Bix, bax, box, bux, and bocks," continued Andrea, endeavoring to pronounce, "big," "bag," "bog," "bug," and "box," all of which, it seemed to him, had a very close family resemblance in sound, though certainly spelled with different letters; "these are words, Signore, that are enough to drive a foreigner to abandon your tongue in despair." "Indeed they are; and I often told the person who taught me the language--" "How! did you not learn your own tongue as we all get our native forms of speech, by ear, when a child ?" demanded the vice-governatore, his suspicions suddenly revived.
"Without question, Signore, but I speak of books, and of learning to read.

When 'big,' 'bag,' 'bog,' bug,' and 'box,'" reading from the paper in a steady voice, and a very tolerable pronunciation, "first came before me, I felt all the embarrassment of which you speak." "And did you only pronounce these words when first taught to read them ?" This question was awkward to answer; but Vito Viti began to weary of a discourse in which he could take no part, and most opportunely he interposed an objection of his own.
"Signor Barrofaldi," he said, "stick to the lugger.

All our motives of suspicion came from Tommaso Tonti, and all of his from the rig of Signor Smees' vessel.

If the lugger can be explained, what do we care about bixy, buxy, boxy!" The vice-governatore was not sorry to get creditably out of the difficulties of the language, and, smiling on his friend, he made a gentle bow of compliance.