“Well,” he said loudly, “this is a nice game.”
“Oh, Esau!” I said weakly.
“Yes, it is ‘Oh!’” he cried. “What will my mother say?”
I could not answer—only look at him in the dim light hopelessly, and feeling in my mental and bodily pain as if everything was over for me in this world.
To my horror Esau burst into a heavy fit of laughter, and sitting down he rocked himself to and fro.
“What a game!” he cried; “but, I say, you didn’t half give it to him.”
“Oh, Esau!” I cried, “it’s horrible.”
“For him,” he replied. “I say, I’m precious stiff and sore though; did he hurt you very much?”
“Yes; my arms ache, and my ear bleeds. Esau, we shall never be able to go back.”
“Hooray!” cried my companion defiantly. “Who wants to? But that isn’t the worst of it; he will not pay us our wages.”