And Adrian wuz, as I say, dretful took up with Al Faizi, and see nothin’ in his dark, expressive face only what he looked for, and what he found in it from day to day all through our tower—the good nater of a patient comrade, who loved him for his own bright, winnin’ little self, and loved him more for the sake of another, whose heart’s joy Adrian wuz.
Martin’s eye complaint seemed to be real bad so fur as the noble heathen wuz concerned.
I guess Al Faizi, in the first conversation he had with him, tackled him in the everlastin’ cause of jestice, and pity, and mercy—subjects that Martin hain’t “o fay” in (that is French. I seldom use foreign languages, but I’ve hearn Maggie use it considerable, and know it is lawful).
No; Martin and Al Faizi looked on this earth and the things of life with sech different pairs of eyes that I d’no as they could be said to look on this old planet on the same side.
Al Faizi looked on the deep side of subjects. He looked fur down under the outside current to try to discern the hidden springs, from whence these clear and turbid torrents flowed.
If he found a spring that yielded black water, his first thought wuz to give warnin’ and try to dam it up.
Martin would try to keep it a-humpin’, so’s to utilize it—sell the mud that flowed from it, mebby.
Al Faizi’s gaze pierced through the clouds of earth, and rested on the gold pinnacles of Heaven.
Martin clutched handfuls of the gold ore of earth and held it clost to his eyes, and so shet out the sight of the Heavenly City.
One wuz honestly a-tryin’ to sweep away utterly the vile sperits of ignorance, evil, and want, etc., etc. Martin wuz for catchin’ ’em and hitchin’ ’em to his lawn-mower, to keep the lawn smooth round the house of his earthly tabernacle.