Down stairs his father paced the floor, watch in hand. From time to time
he would call out the hour, like a watchman on a minaret. At last:
"Look a-yere, Seffy, it's about two inches apast seven--and by the time
you git there--say, _nefer_ gif another feller a chance to git there
afore you or to leave after you!"
Seffy descended at that moment with his hat poised in his left hand.
His father dropped his watch and picked it up.
Both stood at gaze for a moment.
"Sunder, Sef! You as beautiful as the sun, moon and stars--and as stinky
as seferal apothecary shops. Yere, take the watch and git along--so's
you haf some time wiss you--now git along! You late a'ready. Goshens!
You wass behind time when you wass born! Yas, your mammy wass
disapp'inted in you right at first. You wass seventy-six hours late! But
now you reformed--sank God! I always knowed it wass a cure for it, but I
didn't know it wass anysing as nice as Sally."
Seffy issued forth to his first conquest--lighted as far as the front
gate by the fat lamp held in his father's hand.
"A--Sef--Seffy, shall I set up for you tell you git home?" he called
into the dark.
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