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While Willie was away ,one night, Mr. Birdsong said,
"He rather reminds me o' the Puritans who are currently
settling the noreastern coast of the Americas, subverting
an otherwise sound landmass into an haven to lustless
hypocrits. I know the real Willie must still exist. Could I
but contact him, save through that damnable leech, I'd
have my old Willie back." "He mayn't wish to return, sir. He may desire to keep the thing on 'em." "He looks miserable. How can he know what he wants when he's all mixed up with the thing?" |
I drew on my cigar and said, "Are we not all in the same condition as Willie? Ain't the learning we have just like the thing on Willie? I ain't exactly the same girl I was before you got me all mixed up with books. Why, I can scarce find more'n a taste of the old Moll -- can't tell you whether she'd want to go back to the old way, for she be too mixed up with the new learning -- can't sort her out to ask. Why, the old Moll be like a stein of ale poured into a keg of grog. Once they're mixed, you'll never be able ter sort 'em. May as well drink up and enjoy. Why, the whole world's made up o' one thing mixed up with the other. 'Tis the way of nature, and it must ha' been Willie's time to get mixed." |
Copyright © Michael B.Stevens, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2005. All rights reserved. Format modified Aug. 2005