Біла пташка

           Allthewayhomehesobbedinthedarkestcornerofthegrowler,andifItriedtocomforthimhestruckme.

           Theclownhaddoneit,thatmanofwhomheexpectedthingssofair.Hehadaskedinaloudvoiceofthemiddlingfunnygentleman(theninthemiddleofasong)whetherhethoughtJoeywouldbelongincoming,andwhenatlastJoeydidcomehescreamedout,“Howdoyoudo,Joey!”andwentintoconvulsionsofmirth.

           Joeyandhisfatherwereshadowingapork-butcher’sshop,pocketingthesausagesforwhichtheirfamilyhassuchafatalweakness,andsowhenthebutcherengagedJoeyashisassistanttherewassoonnotasausageleft.However,thisdidnotmatter,fortherewasaboxratherlikeanice-creammachine,andyouputchunksofporkinatoneendandturnedahandleandtheycameoutassausagesattheotherend.Joeyquiteenjoyeddoingthis,andyoucouldseethatthesausageswereexcellentbythewayhelickedhisfingersaftertouchingthem,butsoontherewerenomorepiecesofpork,andjustthenadearlittleIrishterrier-dogcametrottingdownthestreet,sowhatdidJoeydobutpopitintothemachineanditcameoutattheotherendassausages.

           ItwasthiscallousactthatturnedallDavid’smirthtowoe,anddroveusweepingtoourgrowler.

           HeavenknowsIhavenowishtodefendthiscrueldeed,butasJoeytoldmeafterward,itisverydifficulttosaywhattheywillthinkfunnyandwhatbarbarous.