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Here you are, man, take it." "Pipe?" "Yes, your pipe. I won't have the thing about me another minute. Look at it the nail's all coming loose." I took the pipe, and saw the nail had begun to curl away from the wood. Said Falkenberg: "The beastly thing was looking at me with a sort of nasty grin in the moonlight. And then when I remembered where you'd got that nail...." Happy Falkenberg!
Henceforth I had but one idea to possess myself of that nail and I slipped my right hand across my body and began to shake it. I made but little progress, however; it was a difficult job, for my hands soon tired, and I had to use them alternately. The left one, too, was of little use on account of the nail's awkward position. While I was obstinately persevering a plan dawned on my mind.
Then Grace's loyalty compelled her attention to her friend. Mr. Hooper breezed in from time to time, but never to take a hand; to do so would have seemed quite out of place, though the old gentleman laughingly made an excuse for this: "Lads, I ain't no tinker man; never was. Drivin' a pesky nail's a huckleberry above my persimmon. Cattle is all I know, an' I kin still learn about them, I reckon.
"Ain't no particular colours you'd like me to wear, is there? I'll get a rosette, if you like, sir, and enter in triumph. Gives ye something to stand by. That's always my remark, founded on observation." "Go to the deuce! Drive on," Algernon sang out. "Red, yellow, and green." "Lobster, ale, and salad!" said the cabman, flicking his whip; "and good colours too. Tenpenny Nail's the horse.
"By San Giovanni!" said the cautious Bratti, who had not shaken off his original suspicions concerning the shabbily-clad possessor of jewels, "he did right to run away from me, if he meant to get into mischief. I can swear that I found him under the Loggia de' Cerchi, with a ring on his finger such as I've seen worn by Bernardo Rucellai himself. Not another rusty nail's worth do I know about him."
Two people would have to hold the chair, and a third would help him up on it, and hold him there, and a fourth would hand him a nail, and a fifth would pass him up the hammer, and he would take hold of the nail, and drop it. "There!" he would say, in an injured tone, "now the nail's gone."
This nail's regularly bent down, and it opened the fork out so that when he snapped himself like a cart-whip he shook himself clear. Know better next time. I'll get a bit of iron or an old pitchfork, and cut the tines down short on purpose for this sort of game, Master George.
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