“It strikes me,” sais I to myself, for I thought, puttin’ this and that together; “her rather likin’ him, and her desire to see his house, and her tryin’ to flatter me that I talked like him; that perhaps, like her young Gaelic friend’s brother who dreamed of the silver dollars, she might have had a dream of him.”
So, sais I, “I have an idea, Jessie, that there is a subject, if he talked to you upon, you could understand.”
“Oh, nonsense,” said she, rising and laughing, “now do you go on board and get me your book; and I will go and see about dinner for the Doc—for my father and you.”
Well, I held out my hand, and said,
“Good-morning, Miss Jessie. Recollect, when I bring you the book that you must pay the forfeit.”
She dropt my hand in a minute, stood up as straight as a tragedy actress, and held her head as high as the Queen of Sheby. She gave me a look I shan’t very easily forget, it was so full of scorn and pride.
“And you too, Sir,” said she, “I didn’t expect this of you,” and then left the room.
“Hullo!” sais I, “who’s half-cracked now; you or the doctor? it appears to me it’s six of one and half-a-dozen of the other;” and I took my hat, and walked down to the beach and hailed a boat.
About four I returned to the house, and brought with me, as I promised, the “Clockmaker.” When I entered the room, I found Jessie there, who received me with her usual ease and composure. She was trimming a work-bag, the sides of which were made of the inner bark of the birch-tree, and beautifully worked with porcupine quills and moose hair.
“Well,” sais I, “that is the most delicate thing I ever saw in all my born days. Creation, how that would be prized in Boston! How on earth did you learn to do that?” sais I.