“Ja! Ja!”
“Three hours?”
“Ja! Ja!”
“Sacramento! I can’t stand that, I must have one STRAX—directly—forstöede?”
“Ja! Ja!” and the fellow rubbed his eyes and yawned again.
“Look here! my friend,” said I, “if you’ll get me a horse and cariole in half an hour, I’ll give you two marks extra—forstöe?”
“Ja! Ja! twa mark” (still yawning).
“Half an hour, mind you!”
“Tre time—three hours!” grunted the incorrigible dunderhead.
“Then good-by—I must travel on foot!” and, with rage and indignation depicted in every feature, I flung my knapsack over my shoulder and made a feint to start.