Chapter Twenty Five.
“The feast of reason and the flow of soul”—Stapleton, on human nature, proves the former; the Dominie, in his melting mood, the latter—Sall’s shoe particularly noted, and the true “reading made easy” of a mind at ease, by Old Tom.
The afternoon of the next day I heard a well-known voice, which carolled forth, as Mary huddled up her books, and put them out of the way; for at that time I was, as usual, giving her a lesson:—
“And many strange sights I’ve seen,
And long I’ve been a rover,
And everywhere I’ve been,
But now the wars are over.
I’ve been across the line,
Where the sun will burn your nose off;
And I’ve been in northern climes,
Where the frost would bite your toes off.
Fal de ral, fal de ral, fal de ral de liddy.”
“Heave a-head, Tom, and let me stump up at my leisure. It’s like warping ’gainst wind and tide with me—and I gets up about as fast as lawyers go to heaven.”
I thought when Tom came up first that he had been at unusual trouble in setting off his person, and certainly a better-looking, frank, open, merry countenance was seldom to be seen. In person he was about an inch taller than I, athletic, and well formed. He made up to Mary, who, perceiving his impatience, and either to check him before me, or else from her usual feeling of coquetry, received him rather distantly, and went up to old Tom, with whom she shook hands warmly.
“Whew! what’s in the wind now, Jacob? Why, we parted the best friends in the world,” said Tom, looking at Mary.
“Sheer off yourself, Tom,” replied I, laughing; “and you’ll see that she’ll come to again.”
“Oh, oh! so the wind’s in that quarter, is it?” replied Tom. “With all my heart—I can show false colours as well as she can. But I say, Jacob, before I begin my manoeuvres, tell me if you wish me to hoist the neutral flag—for I won’t interfere with you.”