But the next mornin’, when all wuz calm, and a not knowin’ how fur his emotions might lead him agin into twittin’ them Spaniards about their national custom of bull-fights, etc., and fearin’ he might git into serous trouble by it when I wuz not near to soothe and assuage the ragin’ tumult, I sez—
“Josiah, you made a mistake yesterday; that man in the nightcap wuzn’t a-fryin’ the beef slaughtered in their bull-fights. They don’t eat that; why,” sez I, “sech mad beef wouldn’t be fit to eat—it would make ’em sick.”
“Wall, don’t they look sick?” sez he; “a little, under-sized, saller set, caused almost entirely,” sez he, “by eatin’ that beef.”
Wall, I see that I couldn’t change his mind, and I sez—
“Wall, anyway, they’re about the politest creeters I ever see, and how soft and melogious their voices are! Their words seem as soft as velvet and silk.”
“Yes,” sez he; “if they wuz a-goin’ to spell ‘cat’ or ‘dog,’ they would pronounce it c-a-t, cattah, or d-o-g, doggah,” sez he. “I’m kinder sick on’t, but most probble they can’t help it—it is caused by their diet; and,” sez he, lookin’ wise—
“That bull beef hain’t the worst on’t. Don’t history tell of that Diet of Worms that they wanted Martin Luther to partake on and he wouldn’t?”
Sez I, “Josiah, that wuz the name of the meetin’ he wuz dragged before.”
Sez he, “I take history or the Bible as it reads, and I know I have read a sight of that Diet they couldn’t git Martin to jine in with ’em and partake of.”
Mekanically I disputed him, for my thoughts wuzn’t there. No, as I thought on’t, the form of my companion a-tyin’ his necktie before the small lookin’-glass, and a-tryin’ to edify me, faded away, and I seemed to look back through the centuries and see that brave Monk a-standin’ up for the Holy Truth, revealed to him in his cloister, as it has been through all time revealed to chosen, prophetic souls. I seemed to see the angry-faced assemblage surroundin’ him. The cold, gloomy face of Charles V., King of Spain and Emperor of Germany, a-lookin’ frownin’ly on him as he pleaded for liberty and conscience. And I seemed to hear Luther’s voice say the words that have echoed down through all these centuries and are a-echoin’ still: