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Narcisse looked at him a moment with a slightly searching glance, dropped his eyes upon his own beautiful feet, and said, in a meditative tone: "I believe you co'ect." But his smile was gone, and Richling saw he had ventured too far. "I wish my wife were here," said Richling; "she might give you better advice than I." "Yes," replied Narcisse, "I believe you co'ect ag'in, Mistoo Itchlin.
"That's the favorite method," replied Richling. "Well, I dunno 'ow 'tis, Mistoo Itchlin, but I fine the moze facil'ty in the poetic. 'Tis t'ue, in the poetic you got to look out concehning the 'ime. You got to keep the eye skin' faw it, in fact. But in the p'osaic, on the cont'a-ay, 'tis juz the opposite; you got to keep the eye skin' faw the sense. Yesseh.
"Brave boys are they! Gone at their country's call. And yet and yet we cannot forget That many brave boys must fall." Oh! Shiloh, Shiloh! But before the gloom had settled down upon us it was a gay dream. "Mistoo Itchlin, in fact 'ow you ligue my uniefawm? You think it suit my style? They got about two poun' of gole lace on that uniefawm. Yesseh.
Well," he seized the visitor's hand, "au' evoi', Mistoo Itchlin." And Narcisse returned to his desk happy in the conviction that Richling had gone away dazzled. Dr. Sevier sat in the great easy-chair under the drop-light of his library table trying to read a book. But his thought was not on the page.
But that's much the same, I suppose." "Same thing," replied the Creole. "We combad the fiah fiend. You fine that building ve'y pitto'esque, Mistoo Itchlin?" He jerked his thumb toward the prison, that was still pouring forth its clouds of impish wings. "Yes? 'Tis the same with me.
An' I'm compel' to tell you one thing, Mistoo Itchlin, in fact: I nevvah would leave money with Doctah Seveeah to invez faw me no!" Richling gave a little start, and cast his eyes an instant toward his wife. She spoke. "We'd rather you wouldn't say that to us, Mister " There was a commanding smile at one corner of her lips. "You don't know what a friend"
He stepped to the landing and looked down. There he went! "Mistoo 'Itchlin!" Richling failed to hear. Sharper ears might have served him better. He passed out by the street door. Narcisse stopped the auction by the noise he made coming downstairs after him. He had some trouble with the front door, lost time there, but got out. Richling was turning a corner.
They went. "I was goin' ad the poss-office, but" he waved his hand and curled his lip. "Mistoo Itchlin, in fact, if you yeh of something suitable to me I would like to yeh it. I am not satisfied with that pless yondeh with Doctah Seveeah. I was compel this mawnin', biffo you came in, to 'epoove 'im faw 'is 'oodness. He called me a jackass, in fact. I woon allow that. I 'ad to 'epoove 'im.
"I tell you 'ow 'tis with me, Mistoo Itchlin, I've p'oject that manneh myseff; in weading a book w'en I see a beaucheouz idee, I juz take a pencil" he drew one from his pocket "check! I check it. So w'en I wead the same book again, then I take notiz I've check that idee and I look to see what I check it faw. 'Ow you like that invention, eh?"
Mistoo Itchlin, will you 'ave that kin'ness to baw me two-an-a-'alf till the lass of that month?" Richling looked at him a moment in silence, and then broke into a short, grim laugh. "It's all gone. There's no more honey in this flower." He set his jaw as he ceased speaking. There was a warm red place on either cheek.
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