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He sold one guileless housewife a bottle, assuring her that it would convert brass spoons into real silver. A little mercury in a rag helped this trifling deception. On the third day Nickie had to buy some gingernuts to make a fresh supply of the Healing Mixture, and bottles were running short. He saw fortune staring him in the face. It was about eleven, and Mr.
A fine, polished carriage, with rubber tyres, drawn by a splendid pair of chestnuts, was driven down the side drove by a livened menial. It drew up near the centre gates, and Nickie leaned on his hammer and waited. The tall, dignified lady, accompanied by a short, important man in immaculate black, came along the path, and approached the open door of the vehicle.
However, at Banklands Nickie solicited work, laborious and painful work. Moreover, he went to the job of his own free will, when sober and in his right mind. This seemed to imply an awakening of conscience, a dawning sense of his utter uselessness to the body politic, and a desire to figure as a useful member of society. On the other hand, it may have been a symptom of brain-softening.
When the important man in immaculate black came out a little later, Nickie saluted him gravely, as between gentlemen, but without deference. "'Ow's it, Billy?" he said. "You might drop in an' see me this evenin'. I'm livin' under th' blackberry hedge back o' your stables." The stout man passed in silence, and with a great show of dignity. Nickie had a busy afternoon.
Nickie followed the lady without the smallest compunction. She knocked quietly at the door of a room and admitted Nicholas to a small apartment fitted up like a study. At a table near the window a grave young man was seated with writing materials before him. "Well, mater" he said, "whom have we here? Another of your proteges?"
It was Nickie suggested the idea of a ride through Bullfrog town ship in character. "I'm afraid, my boy," said the Professor, "it's risky very risky.
Nippit awakened him and talked with him in a firm but kindly spirit on the virtues of honest dealings with one's employer, and the necessity of industry to keep the world wagging, Nickie' graciously admitted that it was all very true. But when set to clean out the fowl-house he sat on a stone and held converse with an educated cockatoo next door.
"That's th' way he went," he said. "Cripes, I'd a' thought I seen a fantod on'y I bin teetotal fer a year." The shearers whipped up, and rode on at a gallop, and the man grinned after them with exquisite joy. "Well, life's worth living after all." said Nickie the Kid.
Nickie thirst had been nagging at him for two hours past. He always contended that the Missing Link's skin was provocative of a great drought. He pleaded with Matty, the bone man, appealing artfully to his professional pride, for Bonypart loved to feel in exalted moments that his position as the living skeleton was not insignificant after all.
Nickie was declaring with the warmth of absolute conviction that he was a king, but the yelling of the crowd rendered his speech inaudible. "I'm a king!" cried the Missing Link. "Behold in me your rightful sovereign. Bow down t' ye ri'ful sovereign, ye base born!" He threw five fried sausages into the crowd.
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