“If you’re going to be so tantalizing——” she returned and forgetful of lame Elsa, sped away to find out the state of things for herself.
Left alone Elsa began to tremble, so that her teeth chattered when Gerald again held the fruit to her lips.
“Please don’t! I—I can’t bear it! It seems so dreadful! Nothing’s so dreadful as—death! Poor, poor, little boy!”
The girl’s face turned paler than ordinary and she shook so that Gerald could do no less than put his arm around her to steady her.
“Don’t feel that way, Elsa! Metty isn’t dead. I tell you he’s all right. He’s the most alive youngster this minute there is in the country. Old Cap’n is lame; of course he couldn’t swim, even if he’d tried. But he didn’t. He just used his wits, and they’re pretty nimble, let me tell you! There was a boat-hook hanging on the rail—that’s a long thing with a spike, or hook, at one end, to pull a boat to shore, don’t you know? He caught that up and hitched it into the seat of Metty’s trousers and fished him out all right. Fact.”
Elsa’s nervousness now took the form of tears, mingled with hysterical laughter, and it was Gerald’s turn to grow pale. What curious sort of a girl was this who laughed and cried all in one breath, and just because a little chap wasn’t drowned, though he might have been?
“I say, girlie, Elsa, whatever your name is, quit it! You’re behaving horrid! Metty isn’t dead. He’s very much happier than—than I am, at this minute. He’s eating water-melon and you’d show some sense if you’d do that, too. When his mother got back, after stealing her melon, she found things in a fine mess. Old Cap’n had fished the youngster out but he wasn’t going to have him drip muddy water all over his nice clean ‘ship.’ Not by a long shot! So he carries him by the boat-hook, just as he’d got him, over to the grass and hung him up in a little tree that was there, to dry. Yes, sir! Gave him a good spanking, too, Mrs. Bruce said, just to keep him from taking cold! Funny old snoozer, ain’t he?”
In spite of herself Elsa stopped sobbing and smiled; while relieved by this change Gerald hurriedly finished his tale.
“He was hanging there, the Cap’n holding him from falling, when his mother came tearing down the hill and stopped so short her melon fell out her skirt—ker-smash! ‘What you-all doin’ ter mah li’l lamb?’ says she. ‘Just waterin’ the grass,’ says he. ‘Why-fo’?’ says she. ‘’Cause the ornery little fool fell into the river and tried to spile his nice new livery. Why else?’ says he. Then—Did you ever hear a colored woman holler? Made no difference to her that the trouble was all over and Methuselah Washington Bonaparte was considerable cleaner than he had been before his plunge; she kept on yelling till everybody was half-crazy and we happened along with—Billy! Say, Elsa——”