Diary of a Pilgrimage by Jerome K. (Jerome Klapka) Jerome
page 77 of 154 (50%)
page 77 of 154 (50%)
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He has a rather curious smile, has my friend. He himself is under
the impression that there is something very winning in it, though, also, as he admits, a touch of sadness. They use it in his family for keeping the children in order. The people of the inn seemed rather astonished at his behaviour. They regarded him, with troubled looks, and then gathered together among themselves and consulted in whispers. "I evidently have not made myself sufficiently clear to these simple peasants," said my friend to himself. "I must put more vigour into this show." Accordingly he rubbed and patted that part of himself to which I have previously alluded--and which, being a modest and properly brought-up young man, nothing on earth shall induce me to mention more explicitly--with greater energy than ever, and added another inch or two of smile; and he also made various graceful movements indicative, as he thought, of friendly feeling and contentment. At length a ray of intelligence burst upon the faces of his hosts, and they rushed to a cupboard and brought out a small black bottle. "Ah! that's done it," thought my friend. "Now they have grasped my meaning. And they are pleased that I am pleased, and are going to insist on my drinking a final friendly bumper of wine with them, the good old souls!" They brought the bottle over, and poured out a wineglassful, and handed it to him, making signs that he should drink it off quickly. |
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