A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain (sneezy the snowman read aloud .TXT) 📖

But these people stopped, two or three hundred yards away, and this troubled me.  My satisfaction collapsed, and fear came; I judged I was a lost man.  But Sandy was radiant; and was going to be eloquent—but I stopped her, and told her my magic had miscarried, somehow or other, and she must mount, with all despatch, and we must ride for life.  No, she wouldn’t.  She said that my enchantment had disabled those knights; they were not riding on, because they couldn’t; wait, they would drop out of their saddles presently, and we would get their horses and harness.  I could not deceive such trusting simplicity, so I said it was a mistake; that when my fireworks killed at all, they killed instantly; no, the men would not die, there was something wrong about my apparatus, I couldn’t tell what; but we must hurry and get away, for those people would attack us again, in a minute.  Sandy laughed, and said:

“Lack-a-day, sir, they be not of that breed!  Sir Launcelot will give battle to dragons, and will abide by them, and will assail them again, and yet again, and still again, until he do conquer and destroy them; and so likewise will Sir Pellinore and Sir Aglovale and Sir Carados, and mayhap others, but there be none else that will venture it, let the idle say what the idle will.  And, la, as to yonder base rufflers, think ye they have not their fill, but yet desire more?”

“Well, then, what are they waiting for?  Why don’t they leave? Nobody’s hindering.  Good land, I’m willing to let bygones be bygones, I’m sure.”

“Leave, is it?  Oh, give thyself easement as to that.  They dream not of it, no, not they.  They wait to yield them.”

“Come—really, is that ‘sooth’—as you people say?  If they want to, why don’t they?”

“It would like them much; but an ye wot how dragons are esteemed, ye would not hold them blamable. They fear to come.”

“Well, then, suppose I go to them instead, and—”

“Ah, wit ye well they would not abide your coming.  I will go.”

And she did.  She was a handy person to have along on a raid. I would have considered this a doubtful errand, myself.  I presently saw the knights riding away, and Sandy coming back.  That was a relief.  I judged she had somehow failed to get the first innings—I mean in the conversation; otherwise the interview wouldn’t have been so short.  But it turned out that she had managed the business well; in fact, admirably.  She said that when she told those people I was The Boss, it hit them where they lived:  "smote them sore with fear and dread” was her word; and then they were ready to put up with anything she might require.  So she swore them to appear at Arthur’s court within two days and yield them, with horse and harness, and be my knights henceforth, and subject to my command. How much better she managed that thing than I should have done it myself!  She was a daisy.

CHAPTER XV

SANDY’S TALE

“And so I’m proprietor of some knights,” said I, as we rode off. “Who would ever have supposed that I should live to list up assets of that sort.  I shan’t know what to do with them; unless I raffle them off.  How many of them are there, Sandy?”

“Seven, please you, sir, and their squires.”

“It is a good haul.  Who are they?  Where do they hang out?”

“Where do they hang out?”

“Yes, where do they live?”

“Ah, I understood thee not.  That will I tell eftsoons.”  Then she said musingly, and softly, turning the words daintily over her tongue:  "Hang they out—hang they out—where hang—where do they hang out; eh, right so; where do they hang out.  Of a truth the phrase hath a fair and winsome grace, and is prettily worded withal.  I will repeat it anon and anon in mine idlesse, whereby I may peradventure learn it.  Where do they hang out.  Even so! already it falleth trippingly from my tongue, and forasmuch as—”

“Don’t forget the cowboys, Sandy.”

“Cowboys?”

“Yes; the knights, you know:  You were going to tell me about them. A while back, you remember.  Figuratively speaking, game’s called.”

“Game—”

“Yes, yes, yes!  Go to the bat.  I mean, get to work on your statistics, and don’t burn so much kindling getting your fire started.  Tell me about the knights.”

“I will well, and lightly will begin.  So they two departed and rode into a great forest.  And—”

“Great Scott!”

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