"Well, you are a chap, playing your larks when we're so hungry! Don't you want none ?" As he spoke, he worked his knife to and fro, and ended by making a division of the bird that could hardly be called a fair one.
"Look at that," he said.

"You've got first pick, as I'm carver; and though I feels a deal o' respect for you, matey, I don't think as how as you'd pick out the smallest bit, and hang me if I would, so here goes for another try." Billy made another cut at the bird, hewing off a good slice of the plump breast, which he laid on to the smaller side, giving it a flap with his blade to make it stick, and then passed it over.
"There," he said, "that's fair; so here goes to begin.

Hullo, matey, won't you bite ?" he continued to the dog.

"There, then, you can amoose yourself with them till your betters is done." He hacked off the bird's head and neck; and after slicing off a portion of the meat, added the drumstick to Bruff's share.

He then began eating voraciously, giving his messmates a version of their "adventers," as he called them, since the morning.
Billy would have made a splendid writer of fiction--a most exciting narrator, for he forgot nothing, and he added thereto in a wonderful manner.