attention to what was going on, and all had united in begging Ben
Buzz to pursue his occupation, without regard to his visitors. The
conversation that took place was partly in English, and partly in
one of the Indian dialects, which luckily all the parties appeared
to understand. As a matter of course, with a sole view to oblige the
reader, we shall render what was said, freely, into the vernacular.

"Let's see, let's see, STRANger," cried Gershom, emphasizing the
syllable we have put in italics, as if especially to betray his
origin, "what you can do with your tools. I've heer'n tell of such
doin's, but never see'd a bee lined in all my life, and have a
desp'rate fancy for larnin' of all sorts, from 'rithmetic to
preachin'."

"That comes from your Puritan blood," answered le Bourdon, with a
quiet smile, using surprisingly pure English for one in his class of
life. "They tell me you Puritans preach by instinct."

"I don't know how that is," answered Gershom, "though I can turn my
hand to anything. I heer'n tell, across at Bob Ruly (Bois Brulk
[Footnote: This unfortunate name, which it may be necessary to tell
a portion of our readers means "burnt wood," seems condemned to all
sorts of abuses among the linguists of the West. Among other
pronunciations is that of "Bob Ruly"; while an island near Detroit,
the proper name of which is "Bois Blanc," is familiarly known to the
lake mariners by the name of "Bobolo."]) of sich doin's, and would
give a week's keep at Whiskey Centre, to know how 'twas done."

"Whiskey Centre" was a sobriquet bestowed by the fresh-water sailors
of that region, and the few other white adventurers of Saxon origin