What's done is done.
Good or bad, we can't take it back."
"You obstinate fellow!" said the doctor, laughing;
"you can't refuse, though, to tell us your adventures, at
all events."
"Not if you think it worth while. But, in the first
place, I'm going to cook this fat goose to a turn, for I see
that Mr. Kennedy has not wasted his time."
"All right, Joe!"
"Well, let us see then how this African game will sit
on a European stomach!"
The goose was soon roasted by the flame of the blow-pipe,
and not long afterward was comfortably stowed
away. Joe took his own good share, like a man who had
eaten nothing for several days. After the tea and the
punch, he acquainted his friends with his recent adventures.
He spoke with some emotion, even while looking
at things with his usual philosophy. The doctor could not
refrain from frequently pressing his hand when he saw his
worthy servant more considerate of his master's safety
than of his own, and, in relation to the sinking of the island
of the Biddiomahs, he explained to him the frequency of
this phenomenon upon Lake Tchad.
At length Joe, continuing his recital, arrived at the
point where, sinking in the swamp, he had uttered a last
cry of despair.
"I thought I was gone," said he, "and as you came
right into my mind, I made a hard fight for it.
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