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Page 73
"Hem! ahem! rather civil that, I should say!" said the
bundle, in one of the smallest, and altogether the funniest little
voices, between a squeak and a whistle, that I ever heard in all the
days of my existence.
"Ahem! rather civil that, I should observe."
I fairly shouted with terror, and made off, at a tangent, into
the farthest extremity of the room.
"God bless me! my dear fellow," here again whistled the
bundle, "what - what - what - why, what _is_ the matter? I really
believe you don't know me at all."
What _could_ I say to all this - what _could_ I? I staggered
into an arm-chair, and, with staring eyes and open mouth, awaited the
solution of the wonder.
"Strange you shouldn't know me though, isn't it?" presently
re-squeaked the nondescript, which I now perceived was performing,
upon the floor, some inexplicable evolution, very analogous to the
drawing on of a stocking. There was only a single leg, however,
apparent.
"Strange you shouldn't know me, though, isn't it? Pompey, bring
me that leg!" Here Pompey handed the bundle, a very capital cork
leg, already dressed, which it screwed on in a trice; and then it
stood up before my eyes.
"And a bloody action it _was_," continued the thing, as if in a
soliloquy; "but then one mustn't fight with the Bugaboos and
Kickapoos, and think of coming off with a mere scratch. Pompey, I'll
thank you now for that arm. Thomas" [turning to me] "is decidedly
the best hand at a cork leg; but if you should ever want an arm, my
dear fellow, you must really let me recommend you to Bishop." Here
Pompey screwed on an arm.
"We had rather hot work of it, that you may say. Now, you dog,
slip on my shoulders and bosom! Pettitt makes the best shoulders,
but for a bosom you will have to go to Ducrow."
"Bosom!" said I.
"Pompey, will you _never_ be ready with that wig? Scalping is
a rough process after all; but then you can procure such a capital
scratch at De L'Orme's."
"Scratch!"
"Now, you nigger, my teeth! For a _good_ set of these you had
better go to Parmly's at once; high prices, but excellent work. I
swallowed some very capital articles, though, when the big Bugaboo
rammed me down with the butt end of his rifle."
"Butt end! ram down!! my eye!!"
"O yes, by-the-by, my eye - here, Pompey, you scamp, screw it in
! Those Kickapoos are not so very slow at a gouge; but he's a
belied man, that Dr. Williams, after all; you can't imagine how well
I see with the eyes of his make."
I now began very clearly to perceive that the object before me
was nothing more nor less than my new acquaintance, Brevet Brigadier
General John A. B. C. Smith. The manipulations of Pompey had made, I
must confess, a very striking difference in the appearance of the
personal man. The voice, however, still puzzled me no little; but
even this apparent mystery was speedily cleared up.
"Pompey, you black rascal," squeaked the General, "I really do
believe you would let me go out without my palate."
Hereupon, the negro, grumbling out an apology, went up to his
master, opened his mouth with the knowing air of a horse-jockey, and
adjusted therein a somewhat singular-looking machine, in a very
dexterous manner, that I could not altogether comprehend. The
alteration, however, in the entire expression of the General's
countenance was instantaneous and surprising. When he again spoke,
his voice had resumed all that rich melody and strength which I had
noticed upon our original introduction.
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