So I slips to the side door and knocks. And a man opens
the door."
Robert Day drew in his breath quickly.
"How did the man look?" he inquired.
"I can't tell you that," replied Zene, "bekaze I was so struck with
the looks of the woman that I looked right past him."
Robert considered the cast in Zene's eyes, and felt in doubt whether
he looked at the man and saw the woman, or looked at the woman and
saw the man.
"Was she pretty?"
"Pretty!" replied Zene. "Is that flea-bit-gray, grazin' in the
medder there, pretty?"
"Well," replied Bobaday, shifting his feet, "that's about as good-looking
as one of our old grays."
"You don't know a horse," said Zene indulgently. "Ourn's an iron
gray. There's a sight of difference in grays."
"Was the woman ugly?"
"Is a spotted snake ugly?"
"Yes," replied Robert decidedly; "or it 'pears so to me."
"That's how the woman 'peared to me. She was tousled, and looked
wild out of her eyes. The man says, says he, 'What do you want?' I
s'ze, 'Can I git a bite here?'"
Robert had frequently explained to Zene the utter nonsense of this
abbreviation, "I s'ze," but Zene invariably returned to it, perhaps
dimly reasoning that he had a right to the dignity of third person
when repeating what he had said.
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