I begun to tell about Sheffield, and how we lived there, and all
about the English Wilkses, and so on; but I didn't get pretty fur till
the doctor begun to laugh; and Levi Bell, the lawyer, says:
"Set down, my boy; I wouldn't strain myself if I was you. I reckon you
ain't used to lying, it don't seem to come handy; what you want is
practice. You do it pretty awkward."
I didn't care nothing for the compliment, but I was glad to be let off,
anyway.
The doctor he started to say something, and turns and says:
"If you'd been in town at first, Levi Bell--" The king broke in and
reached out his hand, and says:
"Why, is this my poor dead brother's old friend that he's wrote so often
about?"
The lawyer and him shook hands, and the lawyer smiled and looked pleased,
and they talked right along awhile, and then got to one side and talked
low; and at last the lawyer speaks up and says:
"That 'll fix it. I'll take the order and send it, along with your
brother's, and then they'll know it's all right."
So they got some paper and a pen, and the king he set down and twisted
his head to one side, and chawed his tongue, and scrawled off something;
and then they give the pen to the duke--and then for the first time the
duke looked sick. But he took the pen and wrote.
Pages:
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295