One of the hundreds of little rats that Hilot (I think) created was scurrying through the spirit room, dashing under a table and through into a hole in the wall. The rat was black, and so it cannot be described what happened in the wall, for even if I (the narrator, not Bartholemeu) were to be able to climb into that hole, the rat would not be seen.
    A pink nose poked out of a hole in the slop-room floor. It was not long, however, until a small chubby hand of the same shade shot forward and grabbed the poor, innocent rat.
    "I got one!" Bart (I'm abbreviating Bartholemeu) then started off with his crazy maniacal cackle. "I knew Icould do it! I'm the best! I'm the best person in the whole wide world! Knahahaahahahaahahahahaahahaha!!!!" (That's the self-esteem part kicking in) "KNahahahaahahahehe.... I feel queasy. Where's the Dramamine?" (I think that's the right medicine, not sure. By the way, that's the seasickness.) As if expecting an answer (why else would he ask a question?), Bart wiggled his ears like radar dishes. (One of his talents.)
    "Hic! Th-Th-The C-C-C-aipt-t-tain *Hic* wantsh a w-w- *hic!* word wish uuuuuu....."
    One of the ship's many drunken crewmembers (also one of Hilot's inventions) had come in.
    Bart, then, (with the squirming rat still in his hands) walked over to the sailor. "Take this then." He handed over the rat.
    "Awwwww.... That'sh shweet o-o-o-of you... *hic!*"
    Hours pass. By the time that Captain FitzRoy finishes Bart's phrenology readings, he (Bart, not the captain) is about ready to jump out of his seat. The captain drew back his gold-plated armchair and stood up. "Well, Bartholemeu, I can tell you that you have a great amount of Self-Esteem and Benevolence. Also a touch of impatience. The impatience part, however, I did not get from the phrenology readings."
    "Where then?" said Bartholemeu, puzzled.
    "Why, the way you've been squirming in your char since you got here!"