As far, however, as putting Nixon at his ease was concerned, Sir William need not have troubled. It was an oft-enunciated maxim of John Nixon's that whatever he did was right, if he did it. "Do's you wanter," was the way Nixon put it; "dun't ast nobuddy fur nawthun."
Presently, noting that the moistened area in front of the fireplace threatened to overflow and inundate the flooring about the tiles, Sir William jumped up, as though with a sudden inspiration and said, smiting Nixon playfully on his tree-stump shoulder:
"Take you on at billiards upstairs, old chap!"
"Ur-rh?" Another salivation dampened the tiling as Nixon twisted his stocky torso about.
"I was about to say," Sir William pursued—having gathered from his guest's tone and attitude that John Nixon did not know anything about playing billiards—"that I would take you on at a game of billiards, only it's so jolly uninteresting. Shall we stroll out and see the deer?"
"Ain't interested in deers," said Nixon, "'n I wun't budge a step to see nawthun I dun't want for to see. Never would."
"You're jolly well right," agreed Sir William; "I can thoroughly sympathize with you, Nixon, old man.... Silly things, deer, after all—aren't they?"
"I tell you, though," Nixon arose, grunted, stretched, scratched, shook his legs, and, with a certain awesome gapping sound and a gust of fetid breath, yawned in his host's face, "what I will do, English. Take me somewhurs whurr I ken git a schooner o' beer—thuh drinks on you, mind, fur I ain't got a cent to spare—an' I'll go along, every steppuh the way. How des that ketch you?"
"Happy thought!" Sir William clapped his guest heartily on the back. "Bright idea! Nixon, you're a man after my own heart. Half a jiff, till I bring our hats and coats."