Breathing hard
and perspiring, the judge entered the shanty, but his eagerness,
together with his shortness of breath, kept him silent until he
had established himself in his chair beside the table, with the
jug and a cracked glass at his elbow. Then, bland and smiling,
he turned toward his guest.
"Will you join me?" he asked.
"No, sir. Please, I'd rather not," said Hannibal.
"Do you mean that you don't like good liquor?" demanded the
judge. "Not even with sugar and a dash of water?--say, now,
don't you like it that way, my boy?"
"I ain't learned to like it no ways," said Hannibal.
"You amaze me--well--well--the greater the joy to which you may
reasonably aspire. The splendid possibilities of youth are
yours. My tenderest regards, Hannibal!" and he nodded over the
rim of the cracked glass his shaking hand had carried to his
lips. Twice the glass was filled and emptied, and then again,
his roving, watery eyes rested meditatively on the child, who sat
very erect in his chair, with his brown hands crossed in his lap.
"Personally, I can drink or not," explained the judge. "But I
hope I am too much a man of the world to indulge in any
intemperate display of principle." He proved the first clause of
his proposition by again filling and emptying his glass. "Have
you a father?" he asked suddenly. Hannibal shook his head. "A
mother?" demanded the judge.
"They both of them done died years and years ago," answered the
boy.
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