I nodded, adding on the slate,—"He is perfectly harmless; but he can only be kept quiet by having some person to talk and read to. He will talk and read to you. He must not know you are deaf. He is very deaf himself, and will not expect you to reply." And, for a person wishing a light and easy employment, I recommended the situation.
He wrote at once, "How much you pay?"
"One dollar a day, and board you," I replied.
He of the nose nodded eagerly at that, and wrote, "Also you make to be washed my shirt?"
I agreed; and the bargain was closed. I got him into the house, and gave him a bath, a clean shirt, and complete instructions how to act.
The gravity with which he entered upon the situation was astonishing. He didn't seem to taste the slightest flavor of a joke in it all. It was a simple matter of business; he saw in it only money and Fatherland.
Meanwhile I explained my intentions to Dolly, saying in great glee: "His deafness is his defence: the old three-decker may bang away at him; he is IRON-CLAD!" And that suggested the name we have called him by ever since.
When he was ready for action, I took him in tow, and ran him in to draw the Popworth's fire—in other words, introduced him to my uncle in the library. The meeting of my tall, lank relative and the big-nosed little Jew was a spectacle to cure a hypochondriac! "Mr. Jacob Menzel—gentleman from Germany—travelling in this country," I yelled in the old fellow's ear. He of the diminutive legs and stupendous nose bowed with perfect decorum, and seated himself, stiff and erect, in the big chair I placed for him. The avuncular countenance lighted up: here were fresh woods and pastures new to that ancient shepherd. As for myself, I was wellnigh strangled by a cough which just then seized me, and obliged to retreat,—for I never was much of an actor, and the comedy of that first interview was overpowering.
As I passed the dining-room door, Dolly, who was behind it, gave my arm a fearful pinch, that answered, I supposed, in the place of a scream, as a safety-valve for her hysterical emotions. "O you cruel man—you miserable humbug!" says she; and went off into convulsions of laughter. The door was open, and we could see and hear every thing.
"You are travelling, h'm?" says my uncle. The nose nodded duly. "H'm! I have travelled, myself," the old gentleman proceeded; "my life has been one of vicissitudes, h'm! I have journeyed, I have preached, I have published;—perhaps you have heard of my literary venture"—and over went the big volume to the little man, who took it, turned the leaves, and nodded and smiled, according to instructions.