"Character of the modern Cretans. First: Extraordinary sense of humor."
CHAPTER IV
A DINNER OF HERBS
The house of Papa-Maleko Nicolaides consisted of three rooms, two downstairs and one above. Curtis was given a seat upon an antique couch with a wooden frame, upon whose high back was carved the date, 1855. Papa-Maleko's father-in-law had received it in that year as part of his wife's dowry, and had given it in turn to his own daughter. It was a highly prized possession.
A trunk studded with brass-headed nails, several low wooden stools and a bureau completed the furniture of the apartment.
The priest brought a stool for Curtis' foot, and lifted the wounded member tenderly thereon. The windows and doors were darkened by the wondering population. Two or three leading citizens pushed through into the room and commenced talking in chorus. All gesticulated wildly. Lindbohm knelt down and began to remove the stocking.
"I know something of medicine," he said. "Do I hurt you?"
"Go on," replied Curtis; "that's a mere detail."
Lindbohm poked the puffy sole here and there until his patient gave a jump, as when the dentist finds a nerve.
"There it is," cried Curtis. "There's something in it."