"How is your health ?" "Don't hab no healf, massa," replied Job, gazing earnestly at the intruder upon his slumbers.
"Don't you know me, Uncle Job ?" "'Pears like I do; I reckon you's Massa Cap'n Flanger." "Not exactly; but I'm his man, Mike Bornhoff." "Jes' so; you was born ob de debbil," replied the old negro, rising in his bed, and showing all his remaining teeth in an expansive smile.
"He remembers me," said Mike turning to the lieutenant.

"We have struck the right man.

But he don't mean that I am any wickeder than the rest of the world.

I used to be called here by my last name, and Job invented the pun he has just used." "Why do you say that we have struck the right man, Mike ?" asked Mr.
Pennant, caring little for the former relations of the two men.
"Because, though he don't look it, he is the best posted nigger in these parts.

He is the wise man among his people, and a sort of leader among them, and fetich man besides." "All right; get him up if you can.