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Bison, yo' bwead is deztyned to be the bwead; and I tell you how 'tis with me, I juz gladly eat yo' bwead eve'y time I kin git it! Mr. Bison, in fact you don't know me ve'y intimitly, but you will oblige me ve'y much indeed to baw me five dollahs till tomaw save me fum d'awing a check!" The German thrust his hand slowly and deeply into his pocket.
And eve'y loaf got the name beaucheouzly pwint on the top, with 'Patent' sich an' sich a time. 'Tis the tooth, Mr. Bison, I'm boun' to congwatulate you on that bwead." "O-o-oh! tat iss not mine prate," exclaimed the baker. "Tat iss not fun mine etsteplitchmendt. Oh, no! Tatt iss te prate I'm yoost dtellin' you tat iss te prate fun tat fellah py teh Sunk-Mary's Morrikit-house!
Would little Skeezucks like a train of cars?" Again the little pilgrim shook his head. "Then what more would the baby like?" coaxed the miner. Again with his shy little cuddling up the wee man answered, "Moey bwead an' milk." "By jinks!" repeated the flabbergasted Keno, and he pulled at his sleeves with all his strength. "Say, Keno," said Jim, "go find Miss Doc's goat and milk him for the boy."
I guess they forgot to feed him and it makes him mad." "That is too bad. He is a real pretty bird," agreed Margy. "Wonder if we could feed him?" "We can ask that nice cook for bwead," said Mun Bun doubtfully. "They don't feed gooseys bread, I guess," objected the little girl. "What do they feed 'em?" "I guess corn or oats."
Orion leaned comfortably back against the fat little shoulder. "P'w'aps you is a bit hung'y," said Diana. "There's bwead and milk on the table; Aunt Sawah left it. Shall we eat our supper afore we talks?" "I can't eat," replied Orion. "I'm not a scrap hungry; I am never hungry now. I wonder you can eat, Diana." "Course I can eat," replied Diana; "I aren't a silly.
"Yesseh," said Narcisse, "now since you 'ave wemawk the mention of it, I think I have saw that va'iety of bwead." "Oh, surely you poundt to a-seedt udt. A uckly little prown dting" "But cook well," said Narcisse. "Yayss," drawled the baker. It was a fact that he had to admit. "An' good flou'," persisted the Creole. "Yayss," said the smiling manufacturer. He could not deny that either.
"Where the word of a King is, there is power: And who may say unto him What doest thou?" "Yeth! And Chimo to sleep at ve foot of ve bed, and ve pink pikky-book, and ve bwead 'cause I will be hungwy in ve night and vat's all, Miss Biddums. And now give me one kiss and I'll go to sleep. So! Kite quiet. Ow! Ve pink pikky-book has slidded under ve pillow and ve bwead is cwumbling! Miss Biddums!
Here's a vedy nice piece of bwead." Orion did what Diana wished, but he could scarcely eat. Tears came suddenly into his eyes. "I wish I was dead, like poor Rub-a-Dub," he said, after a pause; "I wish I was lying in the beautiful garden, in the cemetery part with Rub-a-Dub." "Oh, don't be such a silly!" said Diana. "You has a lot to do afore you is deaded.
"An' honness weight!" said Narcisse, planting his empty cup in his saucer, with the energy of his asservation; "an', Mr. Bison, thass a ve'y seldom thing." "Yayss," assented Reisen, "ovver tat prate is mighdy dtry, undt shtickin' in ten dtroat." "No, seh!" said the flatterer, with a generous smile. "Egscuse me I diffeh fum you. 'Tis a beaucheouz bwead. Yesseh.
"What would little Skeezucks like old brother Jim to make for breakfast?" The quaint bit of a man drew a trifle closer to the rough old coat and timidly answered: "Bwead an' milk." The two men started mildly. "By jinks!" said the awe-smitten Keno. "By jinks! talkin'!" "I told you so," said Jim, suppressing his excitement. "Bread and milk?" he repeated. "Just bread and milk. You poor little shaver!
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