Nunky smiled to see, that, sick and cross as he was, he did not forget his manners.
“Well, my little general, is there any thing else I can do for you?”
Nunky brought two landscapes from his studio. One was a brook half hidden by bushes, and so natural that you could almost see the leaves and grass flutter, and the water slip bubbling over the stones.
“Rocky Brook!” cried Pollio, clapping his hands.
He had “tagged” Dick to that brook many a time when Dick went trouting.
“Wish I could dip my feet right in there!” sighed he. “Oh, please give me a drink o’ water!”
Somehow the picture made him thirsty. The next one was of Yellowstone Falls, which came tumbling down so fast you could almost hear them rumble.
“Oh, splendid!” exclaimed Pollio. “Can’t I have some cream beer?”
For the falls reminded him of something foamy to drink. Nunky kindly brought him some sarsaparilla-mead, wondering what would be wanted next.
“More pictures, Nunky: I mean, _please_!”
Nunky brought another beautiful painting, which he placed against the foot-board of the bed.
“Oh! Jesus talking to the woman. Isn’t it splendid? Did he always look so sober, Nunky?”
“Well, I don’t fink he did, ’cept when little children were naughty, or Jerusalem got out of order,” remarked Pollio, glancing at an engraving on the wall called “Christ weeping over Jerusalem.” Of course Jerusalem must have “got out of order,” or he would not have wept over it.
Pollio moved his head on the pillow uneasily. He remembered that he, too, had “got out of order;” and he did not like to look at that beautiful, sad face at the foot of the bed, for it seemed to know and feel sorry he had been so naughty.
“Wish you’d take that picture away, _please_!” said Pollio, twisting his mouth as if in pain.
“Wish I’d runned away! Wish I _had_ runned away!” groaned the child, in such a tone of anguish that Nunky began to fear he was losing his reason.
“Wish you’d runned away? Why, I should think you’d had trouble enough for one day, without wishing for more.”
“Wish I’d runned away from the ‘Finny-castics’—_there_! They kep’ a-comin’, and I kep’ a-stayin’. That’s why I got stepped on, ’cause I kep’ a-stayin’.”
“Yes, I don’t doubt you are right, General: if you had not staid, you would not have been stepped on. But how did you happen to be in the street?”