Tom Draw, especially, though all his jokes were not such altogether as I
can venture to insert in my chaste paragraphs, and though at times his
oaths were too extravagantly rich to brook repetition, shone forth
resplendent. No longer did I wonder at what I had before deemed Harry
Archer's strange hallucination; Tom Draw is a decided genius--rough as a
pine knot in his native woods--but full of mirth, of shrewdness, of keen
mother wit, of hard horse sense, and last, not least, of the most
genuine milk of human kindness. He is a rough block; but, as Harry says,
there is solid timber under the uncouth bark enough to make five hundred
men, as men go now-a-days in cities!
At ten o'clock, thanks to the excellent precautions of my friend Harry,
we were all snugly berthed, before the whiskey, which had well justified
the high praise I had heard lavished on it, had made any serious
inroads on our understanding, but not before we had laid in a quantum to
ensure a good night's rest.
Bright and early was I on foot the next day, but before I had half
dressed myself I was assured, by the clatter of the breakfast things,
that Archer had again stolen a march upon me; and the next moment my
bed-room door, driven open by the thick boot of that worthy, gave me a
full view of his person--arrayed in a stout fustian jacket--with half a
dozen pockets in full view, and Heaven only knows how many more lying
perdu in the broad skirts.
Pages:
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42