human
They didn't even blame me--oh, if they only had! The honest tears ran down Constance's cheeks.
gpt
But they didn't. The mother said--and she apologized for troubling me, think of that!--that the baby wanted me to tell her a Christmas story. She just wouldn't go to sleep until I did, and she had been ailing all day. I--I forgot my dress, and tore off my cloak in that cold, empty room and I took that poor baby in my arms. Then--then the hardest part came--she--she didn't know me. She got the queerest little notion in her baby head--she--she thought I was an--angel. Oh! oh! and I wanted her to know me.
human
Well of all gol-durned nonsense! Jock blurted out.
gpt
The whole blamed show oughter been exposed. I reckon the best job the company ever had to its credit was that happening of yours--the dress and the--the--rest of the picter. Lord! Jock's feelings were running over as he looked upon the bowed head. The story had got hold of his tender heart.
human
Lord above! Just think of that sort of rum suffering going on back there. It's worse than what happens here. We've got wood to keep the kids warm in winter, and there's clean air and coolness in summer. I'm durned glad I cut it when
gpt
When I did, Jock added helplessly.
human
And now go on with that poor little child what you took to your bosom.
gpt
That's all. Constance choked painfully.
human
The baby--died while I was telling her about the wonderful tree, and Santa Claus and the other joys she should have had, and never did have. I can see that hideous empty room, and--and that poor baby every time I shut my eyes.
gpt
Here, look up now, Jock commanded, his feelings getting the best of him.
human
When life's so empty that you can't find things to do by opening your eyes, you better keep your eyes shut to all eternity. Calling up the past is the rottenest kind of folly in a world where things is happening.
gpt
Listen, I'll read you a sketch or so. But first I'll explain. The local colour of my novel is drawn from--here.
human
Well, I'll be blowed! he sympathetically ejaculated,
gpt
Here where there ain't, what you might say, enough local color to more than touch up the noses of the Black Catters.
human
Jock! Now, see if you'd know it. She read a scrappy description of the village.
gpt
Would you recognize it?
human
With a footnote, it would go. Jock was all attention.
gpt
But I have my doubts as to whether Pete Falstar will take kindly to his place of residence being classified as a human pig-sty. That's laying the local colour on, with a whitewash brush, don't you think? A little dirt and disorder don't seem to call for such language.
human
That is artistic license.
gpt
Well, you ought to pay high for that kind of license--but maybe you do. Go on.
human
I handle my subject without gloves,
gpt
By gosh! I'd keep 'em on when I was tackling pig-stys and such; but don't mind me.
human
God bless and save us! Jock rolled from side to side.
gpt
If you don't beat all for gol-durned sass. Why, Tate will sue you for damages if that great American novel ever strikes his vision. Oil! Thunderation; and poisonous whiskey, and doctored beer. Was it Society or Settlement what let light in on you, about such terms?
human
Neither. It's--inspiration.
gpt
It's just plain imperdence, and it'll get you in trouble. Are you going to use names in that novel of yours?
human
Certainly not. Do you think I do not know my art? But you recognize Tate? Then he lives!
gpt
Good Lord! Know him? How under the everlasting firmament could I help knowing him? What other proprietor is there in St. Angé, you comical little bag of words? specially one as demoralizes the community with poisoned whiskey and doctored beer? Balls of fire! but this beats the band. Go on; go on.
human
And I've got--you, but maybe you will never forgive me. I took you at your--your worst--for don't you see when I use you--later--I'm going to redeem you and have you come out truly splendid.
gpt
Me?