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If I could play like dat I wouldn't sell it for ten t'ousand. You kin play a fiddle to make it worth a lot you." The Romany handed back the instrument. "It's got something inside it that makes it better than it is. It's not a good fiddle, but it has something ah, man alive, it has something!" It was as though he was talking to himself. Berry made a quick, eager gesture.
How much is three times four? And dem all answer: 'T'ree times four is twelve. And he say: 'May de Twelve Apostles pray for me! Den he ask: 'Class in geography how far is it roun' de world? And dey answer: 'Twenty-four t'ousand miles. He say: 'Good; it is not so far to God! De school is over all de time, he say. And dat is only everything of poor Mathurin. He is dead.
"I kill t'ousand more." "And there are twenty thousand others just like you in this northern quarter of the continent all killing, killing for hundreds of years back, and yet you can't kill out wild life. The war of Man and the Beast, you might call it. And, if you could return five hundred years from now, Henri, you'd still find wild life here.
Lor! dat enough to break all 'e dish in 'e house, and in 'e mill, too! I do wish ebbery plate we got was an Injin den you see fun! Can nebber like Injin; 'em so red, and so sabbage!" "Nebber talk of Injin, now," answered the indignant mother "better talk of plate. Dis make forty t'ousand dish you break, Mari', sin' you war' a young woman.
If I could play like dat I wouldn't sell it for ten t'ousand. You kin play a fiddle to make it worth a lot you." The Romany handed back the instrument. "It's got something inside it that makes it better than it is. It's not a good fiddle, but it has something ah, man alive, it has something!" It was as though he was talking to himself. Berry made a quick, eager gesture.
"Ye can slit yeer face all up and think ye're laughing, ye can, but be the time ye'd struck a few t'ousand o' these bean-poles and clothes-line props that Torrance here calls a threstle, ye'd be looking like a pin-cushion dress-making day. It's dangerous, I call it, to lave splinters like thim with their ends up.
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