American literature -- Humor; American wit and humor
"He ain't got religion this trip," said Scipio to me.
"Did his new foreman get it?" I asked.
"Huh! It would spoil him. You keep around, that's all. Keep around."
Scipio was not to be probed; and I went, still baffled, to my repose.
No light burned in the cabin as I approached its door.
The Virginian's room was quiet and dark; and that Dr. MacBride slumbered
was plainly audible to me, even before I entered. Go fishing with him! I
thought, as I undressed. And I selfishly decided that the Judge might
have this privilege entirely to himself. Sleep came to me fairly soon,
in spite of the Doctor. I was wakened from it by my bed's being
jolted--not a pleasant thing that night. I must have started. And it was
the quiet voice of the Virginian that told me he was sorry to have
accidentally disturbed me. This disturbed me a good deal more. But his
steps did not go to the bunk house, as my sensational mind had
suggested. He was not wearing much, and in the dimness he seemed taller
than common. I next made out that he was bending over Dr. MacBride. The
divine at last sprang upright.
"I am armed," he said. "Take care. Who are you?"
"You can lay down your gun, seh. I feel like my spirit was going to bear
witness. I feel like I might get an enlightening."
He was using some of the missionary's own language. The baffling I had
been treated to by Scipio melted to nothing in this. Did living men
petrify, I should have changed to mineral between the sheets. The Doctor
got out of bed, lighted his lamp, and found a book; and the two retired
into the Virginian's room, where I could hear the exhortations as I lay
amazed. In time the Doctor returned, blew out his lamp, and settled
himself. I had been very much awake, but was nearly gone to sleep again,
when the door creaked and the Virginian stood by the Doctor's side.
"Are you awake, seh?"
"What? What's that? What is it?"
"Excuse me, seh. The enemy is winning on me. I'm feeling less inward
opposition to sin."
The lamp was lighted, and I listened to some further exhortations. They
must have taken half an hour. When the Doctor was in bed again, I
thought that I heard him sigh. This upset my composure in the dark; but
I lay face downward in the pillow, and the Doctor was soon again
snoring. I envied him for a while his faculty of easy sleep. But I must
have dropped off myself; for it was the lamp in my eyes that now waked
me as he came back for the third time from the Virginian's room. Before
blowing the light out he looked at his watch, and thereupon I inquired
the hour of him.
"Three," said he.
I could not sleep any more now, and I lay watching the darkness.
"I'm afeard to be alone!" said the Virginian's voice presently in the
next room. "I'm afeard." There was a short pause, and then he shouted
very loud, "I'm losin' my desire afteh the sincere milk of the Word!"
"What? What's that? What?" The Doctor's cot gave a great crack as he
started up listening, and I put my face deep in the pillow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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