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'Noo, says the baron till himsel', says he, 'I didna think that there was ony ane in a' the land that could hae played sic a ploy; but deil fetch me if I dinna lift it as weel as he did! Sae aff he gaed, for there wasna sic a man for birr in a' the countra, an' he kent it as weel, for he never met wi' his match.
It was not by dint of Greek that Parnassus was to be climbed. 'Ae spark o' Nature's fire' was the one thing needful for poetry that was to touch the heart. 'The star that rules my luckless lot, Has fated me the russet coat, And damned my fortune to the groat; But, in requit, Has blest me with a random shot O' countra wit.
Big Jim and 'Masso, as he was called, working shoulder to shoulder, day by day, had developed a sort of liking for each other in spite of the fact that Big Jim held foreigners in utter contempt. "Why did you come to America, anyhow, 'Masso?" drawled Big Jim, waiting for his soup to cool. 'Masso gnawed his onion and bread thoughtfully. "Maka da mon' quick, here; go backa da old countra rich."
I maka da mon. I go home to old countra. That 'nough. Work alla da time." Big Jim ate his beef sandwich slowly. Little Jim, chin in palm, sat listening, turning the matter over in his mind. His father tried another angle. "What started you over here, 'Masso? How'd you happen to think of coming?" 'Masso understood this. "Homa, mucha talk 'bout desa landa. How ever'boda getta da mon over here.
Pixley looked about the room, his little red eyes peering out cannily from under his crooked brows at each of the sulky figures in the damp shadows. "You boys all vote the way Pete says?" he asked. "Vote same Pietro," answered Vesschi. "Allaways." "Allaways a Republican," added Pietro sparkingly, with abundant gesture. "'Tis a greata-great countra.
"What else?" urged Big Jim. 'Masso looked blank. "I mean," said Big Jim, "did you like our laws better'n yours? Did you like our ways better?" 'Masso shrugged his shoulders. "Don' care 'bout countra if maka da mon'. Why you come desa countra?" Big Jim's drawl seemed to bite like the slow gouge of a stone chisel. "I was born here, you Wop! This very dirt made the food that made me, understand?
Ye see it was just a queer clump o' a roun'-about heathen, waghlin' may be twa tons or thereby. It wasna like ony o' the stanes in our countra, an' it was as roun' as a fit-ba'; I'm sure it wad ding Professor Couplan himsel' to tell what way it cam' there.
I heara da talk but it like a dream, see? I lika da talk but I lika my own Italia, see? But in olda countra many men work for steamship compana. Steamship compana, they needa da mon', too, see? They talk to us mucha, fixa her easy, come here easy, getta da job easy, see? Steamship men, they keepa right after me, so I come, see?" Big Jim lighted his pipe.
Finally she answered brokenly: "I ain'd sit by no vinder for yoost a jessnut maan." This was her way of stimulating his ambition. "Ahaha!" he cried. "You don' know? I'm goin' buy beeg stan'! Candy! Peanut! Banan'! Make some-a-time four dollar a day! 'Tis a greata countra! Bimaby git a store! Ride a buggy! Smoke a cigar! You play piano! Vote a Republican!" "Toby!" "Tis true!"
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