"One of the--er--lords," said I gravely, "is here. I'll call him. I
think he can read."

This, according to our fraternal code, was rank treachery, yet I felt
no traitor. Ajax obeyed my summons, and, sauntering across the sun-
baked yard, lifted his hat to the visitor. She bowed politely, and
blinked, with short-sighted eyes, at my brother's overalls and
tattered canvas shirt. I have seen Ajax, in Piccadilly, glorious in a
frock-coat and varnished boots. I have seen him, as Gloriana saw him
for the first time, in rags that might provoke the scorn of Lazarus.
With the thermometer at a hundred in the shade, custom curtseys to
convenience. Ajax boasted with reason that the loosening of a single
safety-pin left him in condition for a plunge into the pool at the
foot of the corral.

"I hope you're well, lord," said the little woman; "an' if ye ain't,
why--what I've got here'll do ye more good than a doctor. I reckon ye
hev a mother, an' naterally she thinks the world of ye. Well, sir, I
bring ye a golden word from her very lips. Jest listen to this. I
ain't much on the elocute, but I'm goin' ter do my best."

We listened patiently as she declaimed half a page of wretched prose.
Her voice rose and fell in a sing-song cadence, but certain
modulations of tone lent charm to the absurd words. When she finished
her eyes were full of tears.

"That is very nice indeed," said Ajax softly. "I should like to buy
your book."