"Did you say 'Quack'?"
"Quack?" repeated this person, beginning to become involved within
himself, and not grasping the detail in the right position. "In a
manner of setting the expression forth--"
"Put him down, 'Quack Duck,' sir," exclaimed one of dog-like dejection
who stood by. "Most of these Lascars haven't got any real names--they
just go by what any one happens to call them at the time, like
'Burmese Ike' down at the Mint," and this person unfortunately
chancing to smile and bow acquiescently at that moment (not with any
set intention, but as a general principle of courteous urbanity), in
place of his really distinguished titles he will henceforth appear
among the historical records of this dynasty under what he cannot
disguise from his inner misgivings to be the low-caste appellation of
Quack Duck.
"Now the address, please," continued the high one, again preparing to
inscribe the word, and being determined that by no mischance should
this particular be offensively reported, I unhesitatingly replied,
"Beneath the Sign of the Lead Tortoise, on the northern course from
the Lotus Pools outside the walls of Yuen-ping."
This answer the one with the book did not immediately record. "I don't
say it isn't all right when you know the parts," he remarked
broad-mindedly, "but it does sound a trifle irregular. Can't you give
it a number and a street?"
"I fancy it must be a pub, sir," observed another.
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