His skin was scarred and wrinkled and mottled, and in colour was a purplish blue surfaced with a grey coating that might have been painted there had it not indubitably grown there and been part and parcel of him.
A blighted leper--was Daughtry's thought as his quick eyes leapt from hands to feet in quest of missing toe- and finger-joints.

But in those items the ancient was intact, although one leg ceased midway between knee and thigh.
"My word! What place stop 'm that fella leg ?" quoth Daughtry, pointing to the space which the member would have occupied had it not been absent.
"Big fella shark-fish, that fella leg stop 'm along him," the ancient grinned, exposing a horrible aperture of toothlessness for a mouth.
"Me old fella boy too much," the one-legged Methuselah quavered.

"Long time too much no smoke 'm tobacco.

Suppose 'm you big fella white marster give 'm me one fella stick, close up me washee-washee you that fella steamer." "Suppose 'm me no give ?" the steward impatiently temporized.
For reply, the old man half-turned, and, on his crutch, swinging his stump of leg in the air, began sidling hippity-hop into the grass hut.
"All right," Daughtry cried hastily.

"Me give 'm you smoke 'm quick fella." He dipped into a side coat-pocket for the mintage of the Solomons and stripped off a stick from the handful of pressed sticks.