Part 6 (1/2)
”NOW what will we do?” he cried. ”Let's DO something. Suppose we break something--just for fun.”
Then suddenly the gayety went out of his face, and he started up and clapped his hand to his head with a gasp of dismay. ”Great Heavens!”
he exclaimed.
”Condy,” cried Travis in alarm, ”what is it”'
”The Tea!” he vociferated. ”Laurie Flagg's Tea. I ought to be there--right this minute.”
Travis fetched a sigh of relief. ”Is that all?”
”All!” he retorted. ”All! Why, it's past four now--and I'd forgotten every last thing.” Then suddenly falling calm again, and quietly resuming his seat: ”I don't see as it makes any difference. I won't go, that's all. Push those almonds here, will you, Miss Lady?--But we aren't DOING anything,” he exclaimed, with a brusque return of exuberance. ”Let's do things. What'll we do? Think of something. Is there anything we can break?” Then, without any transition, he vaulted upon the table and began to declaim, with tremendous gestures:
”There once was a beast called an Ounce, Who went with a spring and a bounce.
His head was as flat As the head of a cat, This quadrupetantical Ounce, ---tical Ounce, This quadrupetantical Ounce.
”You'd think from his name he was small, But that was not like him at all.
He weighed, I'll be bound, Three or four hundred pound, And he looked most uncommonly tall, --monly tall, And he looked most uncommonly tall.”
”Bravo! bravo!” cried Travis, pounding on the table. ”Hear, hear--none, Brutus, none.”
Condy sat down on the table and swung his legs But during the next few moments, while they were eating the last of their cheese, his good spirits fell rapidly away from him. He heaved a sigh, and thrust both hands gloomily into his pockets.
”Cheese, Condy?” asked Travis.
He shook his head with a dark frown, muttering: ”No cheese, no cheese.”
”What's wrong, Condy--what's the matter?” asked Travis, with concern.
For some time he would not tell her, answering all her inquiries by closing his eyes and putting his chin in the air, nodding his head in knowing fas.h.i.+on.
”But what is it?”
”You don't respect me,” he muttered; and for a long time this was all that could be got from him. No, no, she did not respect him; no, she did not take him seriously.
”But of course I do. Why don't I? Condy Rivers, what's got into you NOW?”
”No, no; I know it. I can tell. You don't take me seriously. You don't respect me.”
”But why?”
”Make a blooming buffoon of myself,” he mumbled tragically.
In great distress Travis labored to contradict him. Why, they had just been having a good time, that was all. Why, she had been just as silly as he. Condy caught at the word.
”Silly! There. I knew it. I told you. I'm silly. I'm a buffoon.--But haven't we had a great afternoon?” he added, with a sudden grin.
”I never remember,” announced Travis emphatically, ”when I've had a better time than I've had to-day; and I know just why it's been such a success.”