"Well—I want to know," said Jason. He sat down on a great block of wood. He wiped his sleeve on his face. It made his sleeve all black. "If I was a Sound—?" he said. "Instead of a Man?—Instead of a man?" It seemed to puzzle him a good deal. "Not to be a man—any more you mean? No arms? Legs? Stomach? Eyes?—To get all worn out and busted stayin' on forever in one place? And then thrung away?—But to be just a—just a Sound?—Just a Sound? Well, of all the comical ideas! Of all the——" Then quite suddenly he whacked his hand down in a great black smouch on his knee and clanged his feet like dungeon chains across a clutter of horseshoes. "I've got it!" he cried. "I've got it!—If I was a Sound instead of a man I'd choose to be a Song!—Not great loud band-tunes, I mean, that nobody could play unless he was hired! And charged tickets! But some nice—pretty little Song—floatin' round all soft and easy on ladies' lips and in men's hearts. Or tinklin' out as pleasant as you please on moonlight nights from mandolin strings and young folks sparkin'. Or turnin' up just as likely as not in some old guy's whistle on the top of one of these 'ere omnibuses in London Town. Or travellin' even in a phonograph through the wonders of the great Sahara Desert. Something all simple—I mean that you could hum without even botherin' with the words. Something people would know who you was even if there wasn't any words!—Something all sweet and low——'Sweet and Low,' that's it! My Mother used to sing it! I hain't thought of it for forty years! That's the one I mean!"
"Sweet and Low"—he began to sing.
Sweet and low—Sweet and low—
Wind of the Western Sea——
His voice was all deep and full of sand like the way a bass drum makes you feel in your stomach. I looked at Carol. Carol looked at me. We felt pretty surprised. Jason the Blacksmith looked more surprised than anyone! But he kept right on singing!
Over the rolling waters go—
Come from the—the something—moon and blow—
While my little one—while my pretty one—sleeps.
Father will come to his babe in the nest—
S-silvery—something—all out of the West—
Silvery——
We ran!
When we got to the Smoke Tree and looked back there was no sound at all in the Blacksmith Shop except the sound of Ezra thumping his hoofs. And Jason being a Song instead of a man!
The faster we ran the more surprised we felt.
When you read a book, of course, you expect to be surprised. If you didn't think the person who made the book was going to tell you something that you didn't know before you wouldn't bother to read it. But when you're writing a book it doesn't seem exactly as though so many unexpected things ought to happen to you!
We were pretty glad when we ran right into the Old Minister who preaches sometimes when all the young ministers can't think of anything more to preach about.