“It’s quite right to keep me tied up,” resumed Bart, cheerily. “I might do you harm, and I only wonder you don’t tie my feet too. You wouldn’t be safe if my hands were loose,--of course. But, my Gaspereaugian friends, why bind the hands of my aged companion? He won’t hurt you. He’s one of your own people. His home is in your own charming valley. You all know old Solomon. I guarantee that he shall not harm one of you. So, my friends, unbind his aged hands.” “You shut your mouth,” growled the big Gaspereaugian, “or I’ll precious soon make you. I know you,--young f’ler,--no humbug! You’re the chap that blacked my eye with a snowball last winter.” “Was it you?” said Bart, with a laugh. “That _is_ capital! If I wasn’t tied up, I’d insist on shaking hands with you. And did I black your eye? Ha, ha, ha! I never knew that before. It was a capital shot. I remember, now that you mention it. But look here--you gave me something back. You gave me a snowball that set my nose bleeding for half an hour; and that, I think, was about the only blood that was shed in all our battles.” Bart spoke with such jolly carelessness, and such good humor, that his fun was contagious, and the Gaspereaugians burst into a roar of laughter. Even the big fellow who had threatened him joined in the laugh, and a murmur went round among them to the effect that this prisoner wasn’t a bad fellow. “Solomon,” said Bart, “Solomon, my sable friend, how do you feel?” “Tip top,” said Solomon, with a grin. “Solomon?” “Yes, s’r.” “They’re going to tie us up tighter. They’re so afraid of us! Do you think you can stand it?” “Stan it? Yes, s’r. ’Tain’t nuffin. All same to an ole niggar like me. I knows ebery one ob dem. I’m Gasperojum myself.” “Fellow-citizens,” said Bart, “and gentlemen of the Gaspereaux Valley, I appeal to your chivalry! Is it generous, or noble, or chivalrous, to bind the hands of my aged friend? I’ll give my word that he shan’t knock down more than a dozen of you, if you let him loose. Come now, aren’t there a dozen of you that will be willing to be knocked down for the sake of alleviating the woes of an aged, a virtuous, and an occasionally rheumatic African? Besides, you don’t know what he is. He’s not a common person. He’s a Grand Panjandrum.” “O, you Panjer danjer yerself, an see how you like it!” growled the big Gaspereaugian, who felt some slight fear that Bart was making fun of him. “See here,” said Bart; “since you’ve tied us up, hadn’t you better tie up that basket of provisions, too? If you haven’t got any cord, you may take what I have.” This was received with roars of laughter, to which Bart listened with unaltered placidity.