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I was loath to wake her, but it had to be done. "Mistress Jean!" I said, this time louder, and she awoke with a start. "This is Fairlee, and you can rest here with my mother, while I push on." "Fairlee? Why, where am I? Oh, I remember now. Did I go to sleep, Mr. Frisby?" "You did, Mistress Jean." A quick, blush came. "Oh," she said, "how can I thank you? I don't deserve "
Their exclamations and excited questions spurred me on, and I drew the picture of the battle with a stronger hand and painted myself a hero, which I am afraid I was far from being. But Mistress Betsy suddenly sat up straight, exclaiming: "Bless me, Polly, Mr. Frisby has not had his breakfast, and here it is near ten o'clock" an outrageous late hour in those days.
"James Frisby, of Fairlee, a Lieutenant in the Maryland Line," I replied with equal courtesy. Mistress Jean had stood as though she were turned to stone during our exchange of courtesies, but now she seemed to recover. "Captain Farquharson," she cried, and she came and stood between us, "this is an old friend of mine. He saved my life at the Braes when we were raided by the rebels.
"Next day Daisy was so horrified that I promised to give Frisby an ultimatum. I found him with Freda, gazing sentimentally at his work, and I sent him back to the shop in a hurry, telling Freda at the same time that she could spend her leisure in providing Mr. Frisby with sand, soap, and a scrubbing-brush. Then I walked on to my post of observation. "I watched until sunset.
I paste her onto the rock, with one swipe of the brush for the edges and a back-handed swipe for the finish except when a bill is folded in two halves. "'And what do you do then? I asked, disgusted. "'Swipe twice, said Frisby, with enthusiasm. "'And you don't think it injures the landscape? "'Injures it! he exclaimed, convinced that I was attempting to joke. "I looked wearily out to sea.
We three, accordingly, went about two miles to the strand, where we found a canoe, but it was almost entirely full of water, and what was the worst of it, we had nothing with which to bale it out. However, by one means and another we emptied it and launched the canoe. We stepped in and paddled over the river to the plantation of a Mr. Frisby.
But there stood a glass at my right hand, full to the brim, and ere he could say another word the red wine flew across the table straight into his face. "Take that!" I cried, "with the compliments of James Frisby of Fairlee!"
All day long the little ring-necks whistled from the shore. The plover answered them from distant, lonely inland pools. The great white gulls drifted like feathers upon the sea. "One morning towards the end of the week, I, strolling along the dunes, came upon Frisby. He was bill-posting. I caught him red-handed. "'This, said I, 'must stop. Do you understand, Mr. Frisby?
"'Miss Holroyd is asleep not? gasped Freda. "'Where's Frisby? I cried, impatiently. "'Yimmie? quavered Freda. "'Yes, Jimmie; isn't there anybody here? Good Heavens! where's that man in the shop? "'He also iss gone, said Freda, shedding tears, 'to buy papier-maché. Yimmie, he iss gone to post bills.
Miss Frisby, her secretary, an anaemic and negative young woman, waited patiently, pad on knee, and tapped her teeth with her pencil. "Please do not make that tapping noise, Miss Frisby," said the sufferer querulously. "I cannot think. Otie, dear, can't you suggest a good phrase? You ought to be able to, being an author."
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