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"And," added Samson Carrasco, "if they fail us, we can call them by the names of the ones in print that the world is filled with, Filidas, Amarilises, Dianas, Fleridas, Galateas, Belisardas; for as they sell them in the market-places we may fairly buy them and make them our own.
Curly did most of the talking, and the girl seemed quite uneasy. She left shortly after with a fine-looking Indian, who had evidently come for her. I have not seen her since." "So Curly was dancin' with her," Samson mused. "Then she must be Jim Weston's gal. I wonder what the old man'll say when he hears about it?" "How will he know?" "Oh, he'll find out, all right.
And Maynard Gilfil's love was of a kind to make him prefer being tormented by Caterina to any pleasure, apart from her, which the most benevolent magician could have devised for him. It is the way with those tall large-limbed men, from Samson downwards.
"No, sir; I was only thinking it was stoopid of you to talk in that way." "Samson!" "Master Fred! How are we to know what's going to happen so as to be prepared? Human folks aren't seeds, as you know what they'll do. If I puts in a bean, it comes up beans; but you never know what we're going to come up." "Don't ramble on like that. Now, listen to me. We must get them to the cave at once."
But Samson looked on as taciturn and unmoved as though he had never dined elsewhere. And yet, his eyes were busy, for suddenly he laid down his knife, and picked up his fork. "Hit 'pears like I've got a passel of things ter l'arn," he said, earnestly. "I reckon I mout as well begin by l'arnin' how ter eat." He had heretofore regarded a fork only as a skewer with which to hold meat in the cutting.
"And suppose he wouldn't have let you beat him before all the others?" "Wouldn't have let me, Master Fred? He'd have been obliged to. I should have made him." "You are too modest, Samson," said Fred, laughing. "Oh no, I'm not, sir not a bit. I wish sometimes I was a bit more so. But you should have let me go at him, sir. I'd have made him run, like a sheep with a dog at his heels."
They came back, five minutes later, looking grave and seriously alarmed. "What's happened?" asked Mrs. Trent, foreboding fresh trouble, since, of late, trouble had become so familiar a visitor. "Well, ma'am, the bird has flown." "Please explain, Samson," she anxiously urged. "That bird of dark plumage Ferd, the dwarf. He's escaped, vamoosed, took wings and flew." "Oh, Samson! I'm so sorry.
The stranger half arose, as though to spring forward, then sank back into his seat again. But the little child sitting in her mother's lap by the fire clapped her hands and laughed a childish, happy laugh. "What pleases my little girl?" asked the mother. "Why, 'Samson'" the child said, "that's what you call papa!"
'Eh? said Samson. 'I ginerally mean what I say, my wench. I should ha' thout as yo'd ha' known that by this time. He stopped there, for Julia, but for her mother's arm, would have fallen. 'You great oaf! cried Mrs. Mountain, irritated for once into open rebellion. 'Oh, it's like a man, the stupid hulkin' creeturs as they are, to come an' frighten the life out of a poor maid i' that style.
Again he looked on either side of him, for hope was strongly enshrined in his broad bosom, but not a friendly or even pitiful face could he see among all the hundreds that surrounded him. Arrived at the place, he glanced up at the beam over his head, and for one moment thought of trying, like Samson, to burst the bonds that held him; but it was only for a moment.
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