‘Why, we didn’t do anything,’ replied M‘Turk. ‘It was all Mr. Prout. Did you ever read a book about Japanese wrestlers? My uncle—he’s in the Navy—gave me a beauty once.’

‘Don’t try to change the subject, Turkey.’

‘I’m not, sir. I’m givin’ an illustration—same as a sermon. These wrestler-chaps have got some sort of trick that lets the other chap do all the work. Then they give a little wriggle, and he upsets himself. It’s called shibbuwichee or tokonoma, or somethin’. Mr. Prout’s a shibbuwicher. It isn’t our fault.’