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He was stripped naked, and left severely wounded; and in this state was carried to Jericho." David and Goliath. "David's encounter with Goliath, the champion of the Philistines, is mentioned in I Samuel xvii.: and in the 40th verse is described the simple armour with which the shepherd boy, Jesse's son, repaired to the contest. The valley is not above half a mile broad.
Our housekeeping was of the simplest description and we spent our hours rambling along the shores, reading on the rocks or sailing over the harbour in Uncle Jesse's trim little boat. Every day we loved the simple-souled, true, manly old sailor more and more. He was as refreshing as a sea breeze, as interesting as some ancient chronicle.
"In those tippy bidarkas?" "Tippy bidarkas," nodded Uncle Dick; "and go egg-hunting on the gull rocks, and all sorts of things. Why, they'd have the time of their lives, that's all." "But not one of the boys has a father at home now to advise in the matter," hesitated Jesse's mother. "They are all inside, and won't be back for a week."
"Nay; I'm but afraid for thee, my poor lad, as knows naught," says he. I set him down on th' edge, an' th' beck run stiller, an' there was no more buzzin' in my head like when th' bee come through th' window o' Jesse's house. "What dost tha mean?" says I. "I've often thought as thou ought to know," says he, "but 'twas hard to tell thee.
'Nay; I'm but afraid for thee, my poor lad, as knows naught, says he. I set him down on th' edge, an' th' beck run stiller, an' there was no more buzzin' in my head like when th' bee come through th' window o' Jesse's house. 'What dost tha mean? says I. "'I've often thought as thou ought to know, says he, 'but 'twas hard to tell thee.
"I'll tell you," said John, rubbing his dirty hands over his face to wipe the perspiration from his eyes; "we'll call this 'Cripples' Castle. I don't think it's bad for the time we have put in, when there wasn't one of us feeling very well. But Rob's hand is pretty near well now, and Jesse's foot is getting better, and my nose is not going to come off, after all.
"Grandfather Jesse's white mare has torn the black stocking she wears on her foot." Day after day through the long summer, Jesse Bentley drove from farm to farm up and down the valley of Wine Creek, and his grandson went with him. They rode in a comfortable old phaeton drawn by the white horse.
Thus many new experiences of old lives were mine before ever I chanced to return to the boy Jesse at Nephi. Possibly, all told, I have lived over Jesse's experiences a score of times, sometimes taking up his career when he was quite small in the Arkansas settlements, and at least a dozen times carrying on past the point where I left him at Nephi.
Pure comedy and thrilling tragedy were both lying hidden in Uncle Jesse's "life-book," waiting for the touch of the magician's hand to waken the laughter and grief and horror of thousands. I thought of my cousin, Robert Kennedy, who juggled with words in a masterly fashion, but complained that he found it hard to create incidents or characters.
Let the colors be kind of arty and tea-roomy orange chairs, and orange and blue table, and blue Japanese breakfast set, and some place, one big flat smear of black bang! Oh. Another play I wish we could do is Tennyson Jesse's 'The Black Mask. I've never seen it but Glorious ending, where this woman looks at the man with his face all blown away, and she just gives one horrible scream."
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