The listeners shook their heads as a mark of doubt and reproof. The farmer turned sternly to the young fellow:
“N-now, stop that! You claim to be above God....”
“What do you mean?”
“Why, you are a foo-fool to make the sign of the cross with your fist. Impossible. It never works.”
“It does!”
The young fellow looked round upon his auditors with a joyously radiant face and was about to give the answer to the riddle when he heard at one of the tables the impatient tapping of a spoon on a glass.
The fellow jumped up as if he had been shot. In an instant he was at the other end of the deck, grabbed the tea-pots, ran to the machinery and back, set the table, shook himself, ran below again, put up the orders and passed them around the tables, and all the while the conversation continued before an enchanted audience.
“He’s beside himself!” said the farmer.
“Due to a stupid mind,” added the old woman pityingly.