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If you are a man, Professor Frowenfeld, you will defend yourself!" Frowenfeld lost his temper, but his hasty reply was drowned by Raoul's vehement speech. "'Tis not de trute!" cried Raoul. "He try to save you from hell-'n'-damnation w'en 'e h-ought to give you a good cuss'n!" and in the ecstasy of his anger burst into tears.
"Now, see here; look, me man!" he said slowly and distinctly, a sort of tense eagerness underlying his soft tones, "behfure I shtart in charrgin' ye wid anythin' I'm goin' tu put a few questions tu ye in front av this ginthleman" he indicated the justice "He's a mag'strate, so ye'd best tell th' trute.
Yeh're tellin' th' trute, bhoy, yeh're tellin' th' trute! He'd a-made a good undhershtudy for ould Nobby Guy, down Regina." He settled himself comfortably and lit his pipe. "Eyah, th' good ould days, th' good ould days!" he resumed reminiscently, between puffs, "Hark now till I tell ye th' tale av ould Nobby!" "Is that the man they used to Josh about, down Regina?" enquired Redmond.
To his surprise came Slavin's soft brogue echoing the last lines of the old Shakespearian sonnet, with a sort of dreamy, gentle bitterness: "As binifits forghot forghot! as binifits forghot! . . . . Luk tu that now! eyah! 'tis th' trute, lad! . . . . for here unless I am mistuk, comes me bould Yorkey an' dhrunk as 'a fiddler's again. Tchkk! an' me on'y just afther warnin' um. . . ."
"Eyah!" grumbled Slavin, "seems I cannot hilp bein' cuk an' shtandin' orderly-man around here. I thried out Yorkey. . . . Wan day on'y tho' 'tis th' divil's own cuk he is. 'Sarjint! sez he, 'I'm no bowatchee' which in Injia he tells me means same as cuk. An' he tould th' trute at that."
"Miss Nellie gimme out dinner en supper, den she put on she hat en gone to de ole chimbly en git some de brier what grow dey. Den she come back en tell Abram fuh git a bresh broom en sweep de ya'd. Lemme go, Mass Johnnie, please, suh, en I tell you better, suh. En Abram teck de hatchet en gone to'des de railroad fuh cut de bresh. 'Fo' Gawd, Mass Johnnie, it's de trute, suh!
"'Come, come, Mick, now that we're on a spiritual subject, I'll hear nothing from you till I try whether it's possible to give you a trute insight into religion. Stop, now, and let us lay our heads together, that we may make out something of a dacenter creed for you to believe in than the one you profess. Tell me the truth, do you believe in the priests?
"Now, if a child dat see his fader ebery day, and been brung up in de same house, not know him, how is it possible dat I know you, Missa Basset, who neber before do me de honor ob a visit?" "Why," said the constable, who hardly knew what reply to make, "you never come to see me, Prime." "Dat is de trute," said Primus, "and dat look as do you and me is no great friends, arter all.
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