"I don't care to go unless you would much rather have me," I replied.
"All right, then; saddle the horse."
"He has a love affair of his own, I am inclined to think," the old gentleman said, talking to Bob, but winking at me. "How about it, Dan?"
I had turned to go, but had halted and faced about. "A very empty love affair I am afraid, Master."
"Tut, sir, tut. There is no such thing as an empty love affair if it's managed rightly. You are too faint-hearted. Do you remember what the poet said?"
This was the first time that he had addressed himself to what I conceived to be my learning, and I was flattered.
"You mean Pope's master, sir."
"Hang the scoundrel, to talk about Pope's master. He had no master, or if he had, he bought his freedom with his genius."
I was still flattered and I made bold to venture upon a criticism. "Not with his genius, but with his pains and his polish."
"Confound you, sir, go on and get that horse, you yellow scoundrel."