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Then, suddenly he came to life, and leaped to David's side. "Diable! Tonnerre! You have not fight Concombre Bateese yet!" he howled. "Non, you have cheat me, you have lie, you have run lak cat from Concombre Bateese, ze stronges' man on all T'ree River! You are wan' gran' coward, wan poltroon, an' you 'fraid to fight ME, who ees greates' fightin' man in all dees countree! Sapristi!
Sho, now! Why, it's a better country than France." "Than France better!" cried Margot, lifting her hands and throwing up her eyes in amazement. "France! Monsieur, France is a heaven mais dees dees is different." "Why, what's the matter with America?" said Zac. "Amérique eet ees all full of de sauvage de Indian de wild men an' wild beasts an' desert."
"Dees white fokes is de very dibble," said Dick; "and all dey whole study is to try to fool de black people." "Didn't you like de sermon?" asked Uncle Simon. "No," answered four or five voices. "He rared and pitched enough," continued Uncle Simon.
"But wae's me" and Jamie broke down utterly behind a fir tree, so tender a thing is a cynic's heart "that fouk 'ill tak a man's best wark a' his days without a word an' no dae him honour till he dees. Oh, if they hed only githered like this juist aince when he wes livin', an' lat him see he hedna laboured in vain. His reward has come ower late".
"Does you tink it would be a little more better if it was a little more doner, Sar? People of 'finement, like you and me, sometime differ in tastes. But, Massa, as to de salt, now how you talks! does you railly tink dis here niggar hab no more sense den one ob dees stupid white fishermen has? No, Massa; dis child knows his work, and is de boy to do it, too.
"Ey mean this," replied Hal, coolly; "that if ey dee to-morrow mornin' your chilt dees too. Whon ey ondertook this job ey calkilated mey chances, an' tuk precautions eforehond. Your chilt's a hostage fo mey safety." "Curses on thee and thy cunning," cried Demdike; "but I will not be outwitted by a hind like thee. I will have the child, and yet not be baulked of my revenge."
I not do de harrm wis you. I not got de mooney wort' all dees troubles what you makes. Dees horse, she lak for keel me also. She buck, en keeck, en roon mon Dieu, I not like dees t'ing." "Sober, by thunder!" ejaculated Weary in an ecstatic half-whisper. "Dock, you've got a chance to make a record for yourself to-night if we ain't too late," he added bodefully. "Do yuh know where we're headed for?"
"On dees little table, monsieur." Now, "dees little table" was between the two windows, and not far, consequently from the parrot's cage. My eye travelled from the table to the cage as a matter of necessity, and I saw that the bottom of it was strewn with something white like very, very tiny scraps of paper.
When he picked himself up he hobbled and Weary cursed him unpityingly. When, limping painfully, Glory came up with the object, the heart of Weary rose up and stuck in his throat; for the object was a pinto horse and above it bulked the squat figure of an irate old man. "Hello, Dock," greeted Weary. "How do yuh stack up?" "Mon Dieu, Weary Davitson, I feex yous plandy. What for do you dees t'ing?
He thought of the little monkey. "Dees is greet! dees is too goot! Jud, we peek it oop in de road, heh?" "I'm kinder afraid we'll wake an' find it a dream, Billy hurry up. Get the cash." Billy was thoughtful: "Tree hun'd'd dollars Jud eef eef " he shook his head. "Now, Billy," said Jud patronizingly "that's nonsense. Bonaparte will eat him alive in two minutes.
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