In noticin’ this, Martin sithed to think that them men wuzn’t to home, so that he could call on ’em.
He said that he would love to say that he had met ’em.
But Al Faizi, after askin’ all he could about the estates of the two or three wealthy men and the thousands of starvin’ ones round ’em, looked dretful thoughtful, and took out his little book with the cross and star on’t and writ a lot in it.
And Martin spoke of its bein’ jest as bad in the north of Scotland, where the Crofters can hardly git enough food to keep from starvin’. And they live in sech huts as no man would keep his animals in.
Big families of boys and girls huddled together like pigs in one small room, with a open fireplace in the middle, with no chimney and no ruff, nothin’ but rotten straw; the smoke blindin’ their eyes, and nothin’ to eat hardly.
And as miserable as this hovel is, the landlord is liable to turn ’em out at any time to make room for happier and better cared-for animals—sheep, deer, etc., etc.
As Al Faizi hearn this his face looked sad and thoughtful, and he wrote down quick a good deal in that little book of hisen.
I think Martin liked it. He thought he wuz takin’ notes of his conversation, and he felt big over it, but I don’t believe it wuz anything personal that Al Faizi writ. I believe it wuz sunthin’ as deep as jestice and as pure as love and pity that he wuz a-writin’ about; anyhow, his face wuz a study as I watched it. There wuz indignation in it and pity and love, and another look, that I felt instinctively wuz a-lookin’ forrered to jedgment.
Lookin’ forrered not many years to the time when things would be different.
Wall, we stayed there and went round part of the way in boats, and part of the way in wagons all of the next day, a-lookin’ at the beautiful gems of lakes in their settin’s of richest emerald, and in little walks about the country, and in comparin’ the heights of luxury to the depths of squalor and misery.