“My beauty pearl.  My beeg white pearl.  My pearl of snow-white,” he murmured as in a dreamy reverie he subdued the light of his great black eyes.

“But you never saw snow.  How can you talk about a snow-white pearl?”

“Mister, I bin steward boy on beeg steamer.  I been eberywhere.  I bin in London, I bin in Antwerp.  I bin see snow all over.  That how I talk about my snow pearl.  I tell you my yarn.”

Hassan smoothed down his white jacket, lit a lean cigarette, rolled the incense—­thrifty smoker that he was—­as a sweet morsel under the tongue, permitted it to drift lazily from his lips, and gave his story.

“I bin deck hand on pearling lugger.  To be spell about with wind pump.  Sometimes I work on dinghy.  Two or three times I dibe—­not much dibe.  I carn stand that work.  Not strong for that so heavy work.  One morning Boss he set me on to clean out dinghy.  Too much rotten fish.  You see, when diber bring shell up, Boss he open ebery one—­chuck meat along dinghy.  That dinghy, I tell you my yarn proper—­close up half full stinking meat.  I chuck that stinking meat ober-board along my hand.  Close up I bin finish I catchem stinking meat like this.  Hello!  I feel ’em something!  My heart he stand—­he carn go.  He stop altogether.  I carn look! feel ’em beeg.  I look!  Ha!  Beeg, beeg pearl!  Round like anything.  White like snow.  Pretty—­lobley.  My heart inside go ponch, quick like that, I hear ’em jump along my shirt.  No one look out.  My pearl!  I whistle for nothing; put my pearl easy like I find nothing in my pucket.  Go on my work, steady.  Heart jump about all the time.  Chuck em out those stinking meat.  Ha!  First time I feel something—­one pearl!  Beeg, but no all the same like nother one.  One more time chuck stinking meat.  Ha! one more pearl!  White, long like small finger here.  My heart easy now.  I think my good luck come.  I say my prayer to Allah!  I work hard.  I finish that boat.  Chuck gem out stinking meat, wash her down.  My three pearls inside my pucket.

“For one week I neber say nothing.  My good friend, my countryman from Aden, Ali.  I tell ’em I find one pearl.  Now, Mister, I tell you straight—­neber tell nothing.  You hab one good friend, one countryman.  You lobe that man, your good friend.  But you no tell ’em nothing.  I made fool myself when I tell ’em.  I big hoombug of myself.  Two days, I am pulling dinghy up to lugger.  Big Boss he on board schooner.  I see him look me.  Quick I think, ’Hassan, you make of yourself a fool.  You lorse you white pearl!’ He sing out ‘Hassan!’ I gammon I neber hear ’em.  Sing out loud ‘Hassan!  You, boy!  Come here!’ I pull up to lugger.  He sing out.  ‘Come here quick!  I want talk you!’ ’All right, Boss, I come, I go longa lugger first time!’ He savage.  Call out smart—­’Come here, I tell you!  Come quick!’