generally full of proxies instead of rye, and the Honorable Heth was
frequently one of the four and twenty blackbirds. In short, Bijah was the
working bee, and the Honorable Heth the ornamental drone.

I do not know why I have dwelt so long on such a minor character as
Bijah, except that the man fascinates me. Of all the lieutenants in the
state, his manners bore the closest resemblance to those of Jethro Bass.
When he walked behind Jethro in the corridors of the Pelican, kicking up
his heels behind, he might have been taken for Jethro's shadow. He was of
a good height and size, smooth-shaven, with little eyes that kindled, and
his mouth moved not at all when he spoke: unlike Jethro, he "used"
tobacco.

When Bijah had driven into Coniston village and hitched his wagon to the
rail, he went direct to the store. Chester Perkins and others were
watching him with various emotions from the stoop, and Bijah took a seat
in the midst of them, characteristically engaging in conversation without
the usual conventional forms of greeting, as if he had been there all
day.

"H-how much did you git for your wool, Chester--h-how much?"

"Guess you hain't here to talk about wool, Bije," said Chester, red with
anger.

"Kind of neglectin' the farm lately, I hear," observed Bijah.

"Jethro Bass sent you up to find out how much I was neglectin' it,"
retorted Chester, throwing all caution to the winds.