Then Joe and the
Captain kin make somethin' of Cy James, an' people around yer'll respect
him. Why, Captain, honey, ain't ye hungry?"
This was addressed to a man with several bruises on his forehead, and an
enormous flaxen mustache, as soft in texture as a child's hair--a man
wearing delicate boots with high Flemish leggings, that curled over and
showed full women's hose of red, over which were buckled trousers of
buff corduroy, covering his thighs only, and fastened above his hips by
a belt of hide. His shirt was of blue figured stuff, and his loose,
unbuttoned coat was a kind of sailor's jacket of tarnished black velvet.
He hung a broad slouched hat of a yellowish-drab color, soft, like all
his clothing, upon a peg in the wall, and bowed to Hulda first with a
smile of welcome, to Madame Cannon cavalierly, and to Levin with a
graceful reserve that attracted the boy's attention from the notorious
woman at he head of the table, and held him interested during all the
meal.
"Pretty Hulda, I salute you! Patty, _buenos dias!_ I hope I see you
well, friend!"--the last to Levin.
As he took up his knife and fork Levin observed a ring, with a pure
white diamond in it, flash upon the Captain's hand. He was a blue-eyed
man, with a blush and a lisp at once, as of one shy, but at times he
would look straight and bold at some one of the group, and then he
seemed to lose his delicacy and become coarse and cold.
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