“‘For the love of God is broader
Than the measure of man’s mind,
And the heart of the Eternal
Is most wonderful and kind.’
Oh, ain’t he the clever boy?”
“We’ll see,” said Job unexpectedly, putting his feet to the floor. “I ain’t a-goin’ to have the little fellar ashamed of his father, see if I be!”
“All the same,” observed Captain Hap dryly, “I wouldn’t go on the street to-night, if I was you. I’ll stay along of you a spell. The minister’s beat out. There’s enough goin’ on yet to capsize a soberer man than you be, Job. The fellar that did this here ain’t a-goin’ to stop at rims of dippers. No, sir!... Job Slip! Don’t you tech nothin’; not nothin’ outside of your own house, this six month to come! Not a soda, Job! Not a tumbler o’ milk! Not a cup o’ coffee! Not a swaller o’ water! No, nor a bite of victuals. You’ll be hunted down like a rat. There’s bread buttered with phosphorus layin’ round loose for ye most anywheres. Everybody knows who done this. ’T ain’t no use to spile good English callin’ bad names. He won’t stop at nothin’ partikkelar to drawr you under.”
“But why?” asked Bayard. “Why should he hound down poor Job so?”
“To spite you, sir,” replied the captain without hesitation.
In the dead silence which followed the captain’s words, Joey’s little voice piped up again:—
“Be hushed my dark spew—it
Ve wussvatcancome
But shortens vy zhour—nee
Anhastingsme home.”
Joey stole up merrily, and patted out the tune with his little fingers on the minister’s pale cheek.