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DON PEDRO. Vente conmigo. DON EDUARDO. Pero Sr. D. Pedro.... DON PEDRO. ¡Eh! DON EDUARDO. Decía que yo también me retiraba para no ofender a usted más con mi presencia. DON PEDRO. Bien hecho.... Vamos. DOÑA MATILDE. Adiós, Eduardo. DON EDUARDO. Adiós, Matilde. DON PEDRO. Vamos, repito. DOÑA MATILDE. Fíate en mi constancia. DON EDUARDO. Ya me fío. DOÑA MATILDE. Adiós. DON EDUARDO. Adiós.
You're a wonderful good swimmer, Mas' Don; but the wonderflest swimmers can't swim for ever in clothes. That's resting you, arn't it? I'm fresh as a lark, I am. So 'll you be dreckly, lad. Keep cool. Just paddle your hands a bit. We're close in shore, only it's so dark. We've done 'em. Boats is right away." "Are they are they right away, Jem?" "Yes, my lad, thank goodness!" Don groaned.
Why, I says to myself when they pounced on me, if I gives 'em all their work to do, they'll be so busy that they won't see Mas' Don, and he'll be able to get right away. Why didn't you slither and go?" "Because I should have been leaving you in the lurch, Jem; and I didn't want to do that." "Well, I well, of all there! why, Mas' Don, did you feel that way?" "Of course I did."
"Mas' Don," he groaned; "I did try hard; but it's all over. I'm dead beat, too." A peculiar pale light played and flashed from the surface of the black water which was being churned up by the desperate struggles of the drowning pair.
Mas' Daniel could not associate with ignorance without sharing its shade; and he could not give his black playmates his company, without giving them his intelligence, as well. Without knowing this, or caring about it, at the time, I, for some cause or other, spent much of my time with Mas' Daniel, in preference to spending it with most of the other boys. Mas' Daniel was the youngest son of Col.
"'Cause it seems like breaking my neck, which is white, to save those of them people in the village, which is black, Mas' Don." "But you will not break your neck if you are careful." "Oh, yes! I'll be careful, Mas' Don; don't you be 'fraid of that." "Well, come along. You're not nervous, are you, Jem?" "Yes, Mas' Don, reg'lar scared; but, below, once more. Here goes!
"Dessay they'd like to, Mas' Don; but it strikes me they'd think twice about it. Why, we could sail right over those long thin boats of theirs, and send 'em all to the bottom." Just then there was an order from the deck, and more sail was taken in, till the ship hardly moved, as the canoes came dashing up, the men of the foremost singing a mournful kind of chorus as they paddled on.
I like Mas' Dellow as well as I like Mas' Lynton, and t'other way on; but gold aren't silver, messmates, and what we might do over a shilling's a diffrun thing to what a man feels boun' to do over a pound.
"`There was a man in Bristol city, Fol de rol de riddle-lol-de-ri. And that's the first o' this here ditty, Fol de rol de-riddle-lol-de-ri. "Say, Mas' Don, 'tarn't so bad, after all." "It's terrible, Jem!" panted Don, "Can we do it?" "Can we do it? Ha, ha, ha!" cried Jem. "Can we do it? Hark at him! We're just the boys as can do it.
I read them, and was simply amazed that those small sheets of paper could contain so much youth, purity of spirit, holy innocence, and at the same time subtle and apt judgments which would have done credit to a fine mas culine intellect.
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