But nobody could have denied that his
walk, though staggery, was a genuine walk, and his speech, though
limited, genuine speech, within the meaning of the act.
He made no objections to the expedition. On being told that he was
going to see his grandpa he nodded curtly and said: "Gwa-wah," after
his custom. For, as a conversationalist, perhaps the best description
of him is to say that he tried hard. He rarely paused for a word. When
in difficulties he said something; he did not seek refuge in silence.
That the something was not always immediately intelligible was the
fault of his audience for not listening more carefully.
Perhaps the real mistake of the expedition was the nature of its
baggage. William Bannister had stood out for being allowed to take with
him his wheelbarrow, his box of bricks, and his particular favourite,
the dying pig, which you blew out and then allowed to collapse with a
pleasing noise. These properties had struck his parents as excessive,
but he was firm; and when he gave signs of being determined to fight it
out on these lines if it took all the summer, they gave in.
Steve had no difficulty in smuggling William into his grandfather's
house. He was a great favourite below stairs there. His great ally was
the English butler, Keggs.
Keggs was a stout, dignified, pigeon-toed old sinner, who cast off the
butler when not on duty and displayed himself as something of a
rounder.
Pages:
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135