I mean,' he says, 'when
a man's given a start. If nobody gives him a start, why, course
he's got to have luck AND the right kind o' brains. The only miracle
about Bibbs,' he says, 'is where he got the OTHER kind o' brains--the
brains you made him quit usin' and throw away.'"
"But what'd he say about his health?" Mrs. Sheridan demanded,
impatiently, as George placed a cup of coffee before her husband.
Sheridan helped himself to cream and sugar, and began to sip the
coffee.
"I'm comin' to that," he returned, placidly. "See how easy I manage
this cup with my left hand, mamma?"
"You been doin' that all winter. What did--"
"It's wonderful," he interrupted, admiringly, "what a fellow can do
with his left hand. I can sign my name with mine now, well's I ever
could with my right. It came a little hard at first, but now, honest,
I believe I RATHER sign with my left. That's all I ever have to write,
anyway--just the signature. Rest's all dictatin'." He blew across
the top of the cup unctuously. "Good coffee, mamma! Well, about
Bibbs. Ole Gurney says he believes if Bibbs could somehow get back
to the state o' mind he was in about the machine-shop--that is,
if he could some way get to feelin' about business the way he felt
about the shop--not the poetry and writin' part, but--" He paused,
supplementing his remarks with a motion of his head toward the old
house next door.
Pages:
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400