Part 34 (1/2)
”Isn't it short enough?” said Emson rather piteously, as he feebly raised his hand to his temples.
”Yes, there: it looks nice and fas.h.i.+onable. But all down at the back it's like Breezy's mane.”
”Then you shall cut it, d.y.k.e.”
”Ah-h-h!”
”Well then, young un. But how is poor Breezy?”
”Getting wild for want of riding. I went toward her yesterday, and she began dancing a _pas-de-deux_-legs on her fore-hoofs, and sparred at the sky with her hind. Wait a bit, and you and I'll take some of the steam out of her and Longshanks. We'll hunt out no end of ostriches' nests in the farther-off part of the veldt. Here, what are you shaking your jolly old head for? It's been quite shaky enough, hasn't it?”
”I was thinking of the ostrich-farming, little un,” said Emson sadly.
”No, my lad, no more time wasted over that. Two hundred years hence they may have got a more manageable strain of domesticated birds that will live well in confinement. We've had our try, and failed.”
”Bah! Not half tried. I haven't. No, Joe, we won't give up. We'll do it yet. Why, it was that black scoundrel Jack who caused half the mischief. Oh, Joe, if I could only have caught him when he was knocking those poor young birds on the head, and had my gun with me.”
”What! would you have shot at him, young un?”
”If I'd had small shot in one of the barrels. They'd have just gone through, and peppered his hide nicely. I say, Joe, his clothes wouldn't have stopped the shot corns.”
”No,” said Emson, smiling; ”his clothes wouldn't have stopped them.”
”Hooray-y-y-y!” shouted d.y.k.e again, and the two lion cubs looked over the packing-case in which they were confined, wonderingly.
”Look at him! A regular half laugh. We shall have the whole laugh soon. But there, I mustn't stop, wasting time here.”
”Yes; stay a little longer, little un. I want to talk to you,” said Emson.
”About my being such a nice, good boy--so brave and so noodley? No, you don't. I'm off!”
”No, no; I will not say a word about that. I want to talk to you.”
”But the ostriches want feeding.”
”They must wait,” said Emson sadly. ”They've made us wait for profit.
Look here, little un; sit down.”
”Well, if you want it. But, honour bright: no b.u.t.tering me.”
”I want to talk about our future.”
”Well, I can tell you that, Joe. We're going to make a big success of the farm.”
”No, boy; we are going to give it up.”
”What! Sell it?”
”No; I should be ashamed to take money off a man for so worthless a bargain. We are going to sc.r.a.pe together what skins and feathers are ours, so as to pay our way, and going home.”
”What! empty?” cried d.y.k.e. ”That we won't.”