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The hall-boy timidly announced: "Mistoo Dyckman is down year askin' kin he see you. Kin he?" "Send him up, please," said Kedzie. Then she turned to Ferriday. "He's here at this hour! I wonder why." "I'd better slope." "Do you mind?" "Not in the least. I'll go up a flight of stairs and take the elevator after His Majesty has finished with it. Good-by. Get busy!"
Richling listened to him with new pleasure and rising esteem. "You make me envy you," he exclaimed, honestly. "Well, I s'pose you may say so, Mistoo Itchlin, faw I nevva nuss a sing-le one w'at din paid me ten dollahs a night. Of co'se!
The Doctor looked up with a start, and Narcisse continued: "Mistoo Itchlin is wuckin' in 'is employment. I think 'e's please' with 'im." "Then why does he come to see me about him?" asked the Doctor, so sharply that Narcisse shrugged as he replied:
'Doctah Seveeah, says I, 'don't you call me a jackass ag'in! An' 'e din call it me ag'in. No, seh. But 'e din like to 'ush up. Thass the rizz'n 'e was a lil miscutteous to you. Me, I am always polite. As they say, 'A nod is juz as good as a kick f'om a bline hoss. You are fon' of maxim, Mistoo Itchlin? Me, I'm ve'y fon' of them.
As, faw instance, thass anotheh slandeh of the pwess that the delegates qua'led ad the Chawleston convention. They only pwetend to qua'l; so, by that way, to mizguide those Abolish-nists. Mistoo Itchlin, I am p'ojecting to 'ite some obitua' 'emawks about that Lady By'on, but I scass know w'etheh to 'ite them in the poetic style aw in the p'osaic. Which would you conclude, Mistoo Itchlin?"
"You borrow the sun's rays," said Mary, with wicked sweetness. "Yes; 'tis cheapeh than matches in the longue 'un." "You have discovered that, I suppose," remarked John. "Me? The sun-glass? No. I believe Ahchimides invend that, in fact. An' yet, out of ten thousan' who use the sun-glass only a few can account 'ow tis done. 'Ow did you think that that's my invention, Mistoo Itchlin?
Look at dem fo' li'l' spot' on de man' foot! Now, Mistoo Tah-bawx! You been talk' 'bout dem ah bahsta'd hawn-snake not pizen! Well, mos' sholy dey bite ain't pizen; but if dat hawn on de een of his tail dess on'y tetch you, you' gone! Look at dat man! Kill' him so quick dey wa'n't time for de place to swell whah he was hit!" But Tarbox quietly pointed out to St.
The handsome Creole's face was aglow with the pure delight of existence. "Well, Mistoo Itchlin, 'ow you enjoyin' that watah? As fah as myseff am concerned, 'I am afloat, I am afloat on the fee-us 'olling tide. I don't think you fine that stweet pwetty dusty to-day, Mistoo Itchlin?" Richling laughed. "It don't inflame my eyes to-day," he said.
"Mistoo Itchlin," said Narcisse, with sudden, quavering fervor, "you kin len' me two dollahs! I gi'e you my honah the moze sacwed of a gen'leman, Mistoo Itchlin, I nevvah hass you ag'in so long I live!" He extended a pacifying hand. "One moment, Mistoo Itchlin, one moment, I implo' you, seh! I assu' you, Mistoo Itchlin, I pay you eve'y cent in the worl' on the laz of that month?
Richling reflected with downcast eyes. "It seems to me," he said, when he had passed his hand across his mouth in apparent meditation and looked up, "seems to me I'd conclude both, without delay." "Yes? But accawding to what fawmule, Mistoo Itchlin? 'Ay, 'tis theh is the 'ub, in fact, as Lawd By'on say. Is it to migs the two style' that you advise?"
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