“Durn ye, Jed Bungay, why, thet's more money thin ye've aimed in six months, an' ye've got more measly, flea-bit dorgs 'round yere now then ye kin ever feed. Give me ther four bits, mister, an' I reckon as how it'll be all right.”
The little man balanced himself on one foot, and cocked up his eye in an abortive attempt to wink.
“Yas, don't ye ever mind me, Mariar,” he said humbly. “'Whom ther Lord hath jined tergether let no man put asunder.' Thet thar ain't Scott, Cap, but I reckon it's out of another book mighty nigh es good. Hes you uns got all ther victuals ye want? 'He gave him of his Highland cheer, the hardened flesh of mountain deer.' This yere is slab bacon, but it smells purty durn good.”
I glanced at Mrs. Brennan, and the amused twinkle in her eyes led me to say heartily, “We had not entirely completed our meal, but imagined we saw ghosts.”
“Ghosts!” He glanced around apprehensively,—“'On Heaven and on thy lady call, and enter the enchanted hall!' Wus ther ghosts ye saw over thar?” And he pointed toward the wall opposite.
I nodded.
“Then I sorter reckon as how Mariar and me wus them ghosts,” he continued, grinning. “We sorter reckoned as how we wanted ter see who wus yere afore we come in. 'I'll listen till my fancy hears the clang of swords, the crash of spears.' These yere is tough times, stranger, in these parts, an' a man whut has ter pertect a lovely female hes got ter keep his eye skinned.”
Maria sniffed contemptuously.
“Ye're no great shakes at a pertectin' o' me, Jed Bungay. Now you sit down thar an' begin ter fill up. I reckon as how ther Cap an' his gal will kinder jine with us fer manners.”
She seated Jed with such extreme vigor that I looked for the chair to collapse beneath him as he came down, but the little man, not in the least daunted, picked up his knife and fork with a sigh of relief.