Jack was a collection of excitable

Jack was a collection of excitable noises, a veritable cascade of “oohs” and “aahs” and breathy mumblings of, “oh, that’s a pretty one,” as his efforts unveiled new trinkets to his liking. Thunder pealed a dozen times before he settled upon drawing out a handful of strung pearls from the bounty and a garish coronet bristling with jewels. The fat pearls glistened in the lamplight, and Jack wound the weighty string about his fingers as he propped the golden monstrosity upon his head. “Fine haul, wouldn’t you say, Barbossa?”