David pranced carelessly about the Little Missioner, poking him
beautifully as he offered suggestions and criticism.
"You should protect your nose, _mon Pere_"--_plunk_! "And the pit of
your stomach"--_plunk_! "And also your ears"--_plunk_, _plunk_! "But
especially your nose, _mon Pere_"--_plunk_, _plunk_!
"And sometimes the tip of your jaw, David," gurgled Father Roland, and
for a few moments night closed in darkly about David.
When he came fully into his senses again he was sitting in the snow,
with the Little Missioner bending over him anxiously, and Mukoki
grinning down at him like a fiend.
"Dear Heaven, forgive me!" he heard Father Roland saying. "I didn't mean
it so hard, David--I didn't! But oh, man, it was such a chance--such a
beautiful chance! And now I've spoiled it. I've spoiled our fun."
"Not unless you're--tired," said David, getting up on his feet. "You
took me at a disadvantage, _mon Pere_. I thought you were green."
"And you were pulverizing my nose," apologized Father Roland.
They went at it again, and this time David spared none of his caution,
and offered no advice, and the Missioner no longer posed, but became
suddenly as elusive and as agile as a cat. David was amazed, but he
wasted no breath to demand an explanation.
Pages:
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144