Orphans and Trinkets

Chapter III

Tush, tush! Mine take it much unkindly." A bouncing, beepiddy, woman of seemingly royal stature interjected, responding to a judgement of Mr. Corsique, headmaster and founder of the place at which she worked.

An olden man was the first to return. "Axe on thwacks on thracks of thrice, axen-wise. Individual by a single place one be a trio of dittoh and one prior. A duo o' nursus one make a plausible free and an idim posterior. Genesis with a large boa and a tree o' birch and three-legged calvers and ivargraine jadesses with a message in their orals!"

"Sigh- He knows thee. He knows yourself as old fellow. O, I fear me, he is Roman-er than the Romans of Rome; equally democratic as the Ain-chent Greeks. His light Galilean oculars were upon thine mesial groove. Galileo Galilei. O, the thunderous flash of those loins! The god granting chase to the maiden hides."

"Tush!" He repeated, "Besides the black, back and fro; besides the buck who buckled off the ladder (Paf - paf - paf!) nor the lass and lad who threw bodies upon sharp (Swish!), he-self who calls him-self brobdingnagian of prop-oar-shin-laity in manner of kind and merciful, be he not, an'ser-tain-ly he art nay."

They'd been in a large banquet hall, of all things clever and good, and in those things clever and good, equally luxurious and spoiled with their tiny teas and tees of linen and T's of both the cork-removers and tables. An observation had been interrupted as the old man hailed a wind of assistive fury in waiter yet waited and requested a finest glass of the finest wine. The tightly, fancied bound boy scampered forwards and offwards, and the old man turned backwards and onwards to his companion of fair sex.

"Nay, nay... The lioness or the lion hides not from God and a cacao tree equally so, neither do I or neither do you, and neither does he and neither does the general. It simply remains within my better understandings that he may not be of kindly nature. Twice the thrice the price as rice been scare itself within the beaks of them who are vulnerable and weak, and yours-truly find it most unacceptable."

"He is a good man, I assure you, dear. He pays us well, and why would it concern us of the rest? Cry next to the beds of all deceased, soon to be or sickly including all the world and see what benefits it may bring; 'tis useless and quite frankly, a fragile misinterpretation of my focus and time."

The old man scrunched up his face in disgust and quiet more-ning, insothat he resembled more a bag with wrinkles rather than a lad with them. The speakers had been the well established Everett couple, as addressed by the yung-ling who'd present them with their finest liquor in the quaintly cute cups. Both took a small sip and turned away from one another, both acknowledging the effort as to avoid unnecessary interaction, but not before turning back and meeting eyes once again. The glitter and sparkle in the sunken and passionate eyes of Mr. Everett had long disappeared, or rather, assimilated the further into marriage he'd delved with the cold Louis Everett Orville. However, small rays of this passion had shone through his tiresome attitude upon speaking with others of similar kind and not, yet all energetic and grateful, equivalently suggesting a lack of seniority.

"Oh- Let us speak of it no more! I hardly stand such dreadfully boring topics." She shot up, noticing out of habit that her husband was to continue to speak and attempt to convince. "Boy! A jug of milk, if you will." She called out to a passing waiter, which caught her request and nodded. He gazed upon her pour into the meticulous measure and thence into the jug, rich white milk, not hers. Old shrunken paps. She poured again a measureful and a tilly. Olden and secret she'd entered from a morning world, perhaps a messenger. She heralded the valuable benefits of the milk, pouring it out. Much ignorantly, he thought, as if crouching by a patient cow at daybreak in the lush field, a witch on her toadstool, her wrinkled fingers quick at the squirting dugs, would change her expenditure of the fluid. They lowed about her whom they knew, dewsilky cattle. Silk of the kine and poor old woman, names given her in old times. A wandering crone, lowly form of an immortal serving her conqueror and her gay betrayer, their common cuckquean, a messenger from the secret morning. To serve or to upbraid, whether he could not tell: but scorned to beg her favour.