"
"They pull tails there," said Ajax, "but here they pull legs as well--
eh?"
The Baron smiled ruefully, sticking out a slender, delicately formed
foot and ankle.
"Yes," he said thoughtfully, "old man Dumble, he pull my leg."
The Dumbles were neighbours of the Baron, and their sterile acres
marched with his. John Jacob Dumble's word might be as good or better
than his bond, but neither was taken at par. It was said of him that
he preferred to take cash for telling a lie rather than credit for
telling the truth. Dumble, as we knew, had sold the Baron one horse
and saddle, one Frisian-Holstein cow, and an incubator. The saddle
gave the horse a sore back, the horse fell down and broke its knees,
the cow dried up in a fortnight, and the incubator cooked eggs to
perfection, but it wouldn't incubate them.
"I use it as a stove," said the Baron.
Next summer, when the pretty lake dried up and began to smell, we
advised the Baron to take a holiday. We told him of pleasant,
hospitable people in San Francisco, in Menlo, and at Del Monte, who
would be charmed to make his acquaintance.
"San Francisco? _Jamais, jamais de la vie!_"
"Come with us to Del Monte?"
"Del Monte?"
We explained that Del Monte was a huge hotel standing in lovely
gardens which ran down to the sea.
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