One morning, not long after the events just narrated, Zeppa came to Rosco’s hut with a bundle under his arm. He was followed by Marie, Betsy, Zariffa, and Lippy with her mother. By that time Lippy had been provided with a bonnet similar to that of her friend Ziffa, and her mother had been induced to mount a flannel petticoat, which she wore tied round her neck or her waist, as her fancy or her forgetfulness inclined her. The party had accompanied Zeppa to observe the effect of this bundle on Rosco.
That worthy was seated on a low couch constructed specially for him by Ebony. He was busy reading.
“Welcome, friends all,” he said, with a look of surprise at the deputation-like visit.
“We have come to present you with a little gift, Rosco,” said Zeppa, unrolling the bundle and holding up to view a couple of curious machines.
“Wooden legs!” exclaimed Rosco with something between a gasp and a laugh.
“That’s what they are, Rosco. We have been grieved to see you creeping about in such a helpless fashion, and dependent on Ebony, or some other strong-backed fellow, when you wanted to go any distance, so Orlando and I have put our heads together, and produced a pair of legs.”
While he was speaking the on-lookers gazed in open-eyed-and-mouthed expectancy, for they did not feel quite sure how their footless friend would receive the gift.
“It is kind, very kind of you,” he said, on recovering from his surprise; “but how am I to fix them on? there’s no hole to shove the ends of my poor legs into.”
“Oh! you don’t shove your legs into them at all,” said Zeppa; “you’ve only got to go on your knees into them—see, this part will fit your knees pretty well—then you strap them on, make them fast, and away you go. Let’s try them.”
To the delight of the women and children, Rosco was quite as eager to try on the legs as they were to see him do it. The bare idea of being once more able to walk quite excited the poor man, and his hands trembled as he tried to assist his friend in fixing them.