Part 14 (1/2)
Horatio swung the violin to his shoulder and drew the bow across the strings. Then he sang softly:--
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”Oh, there's some folks say a n.i.g.g.e.r won't steal, But I caught one in my corn-fiel'.
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And there's other folks say that a Bear will tame, But I wouldn't trust him with my----”
he hesitated, and then, with a final flourish,
”with my money all the same.”
The little boy laughed. The Bear seemed to have forgotten the cruel Italian and was in his usual good humor.
”I think I can trust you, Horatio; I'm not a bit afraid of you.”
”Bo,” said Ratio, speaking suddenly, ”speaking of Christmas trees, we ought to have one. I saw a beautiful one up the stream yonder. I think I'll go and get it, if you'll look after the supper while I'm gone.”
”Why, yes, Horatio, only don't be long about it.”
Horatio struck the violin with a long vigorous sweep.
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”Oh, we'll have a tree for Christmas in this Louisiana isthmus, Where the orange trees are waving and the jasmines are in bloom;
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And I'll have a Christmas dinner, if I don't I am a sinner, And I'll eat it if it sends me to my doom--doom--doom.”
Bo laughed again. He had never seen Horatio in a better humor.
”If you eat too much pie it may send you to your doom--doom--doom,” he said. ”Hurry back, now, with that tree. You can pull it up by the roots and we'll plant it again here. Then it will keep right on growing.”
The bear set out up the stream and the boy busied himself with building a fire and taking out of a sack a lot of food that had been given them by the planters during the afternoon. He spread this on the leaves and moss and then sat down and gazed into the bright blaze. It was pleasant and warm and he was quite tired. After a while he wondered sleepily why the Bear didn't come back, and concluded he was having a hard time pulling up the tree. Then he began thinking of all the adventures they had had together and of the little cub bear and the cruel Italian.
”I was tempted to let Horatio at him,” he thought. ”A man like that should be beaten until he couldn't stand. That poor little creature! How wistfully he looked at us. He kept whining--perhaps he was telling Ratio something.”
The little boy's head nodded forward now and then and presently he slept. He slept soundly and the moments flew by unheeded. He was having a long dream about old man Todd and the girls and the two candy hearts, when suddenly there arose close at hand such a commotion, such a mingling of excited language, fierce snarls and cras.h.i.+ng of brush that the little boy leaped to his feet wildly.
”Ratio!” he shouted. ”Ratio! where are you?”
The only answer was the redoubled fury of the furious uproar, which Bo now located at the edge of the road but a few feet away. He tore through the brush hastily in that direction. As he reached the spot the turmoil ceased and he heard the sound of running feet. Das.h.i.+ng through into the road he beheld a strange sight. A half-naked man was disappearing over the hill just beyond, and Horatio, holding some rags of clothing in one hand and the paw of the little bear in the other, was looking after him hungrily, as if about to pursue. Before him lay the Christmas tree badly broken and bruised.
”Ratio!” exclaimed Bo. ”What have you been doing?”
The Bear looked at Bo sheepishly.
”I went for the Christmas tree,” he said, meekly, ”and just as I was coming back the Italian man came along, and he was beating this little chap, and so I tried the Christmas tree on him to see how he liked it.