"What is--" David began, and his companion replied glibly: "Layovers for meddlers and crutches for lame ducks."
And David subsided into giggles, for it was understood that this
remark was extremely humorous.
After that they went to dinner with a gentleman who wore a long black
coat and no shirt; at least, David could not see any shirt. Dr.
Lavendar called him Bishop, and they talked a great deal about
uninteresting things. David only spoke twice: His host took occasion
to remark that he did not finish all his mashed potato--"Some poor
child would be glad of what you waste," said the Bishop. To which
David replied, "If I ate it, what then, for the poor child?" And the
gentleman with no shirt said in a grave aside to Dr. Lavendar that the
present generation was inclined to pertness. His second remark was
made when the clergymen pushed their chairs back from the table. But
David sat still. "We haven't had the ice-cream yet," he objected,
gently. "Hush! Hush!" said Dr. Lavendar. And the gentleman laughed
very hard, and said that he had to send all his ice-cream to the
heathen. David, reddening, looked at him in stolid silence. In the
afternoon there was a pause; they went to church, and listened to
another gentleman, who talked a long, long time. Sometimes David
sighed, but he kept pretty quiet, considering. After the talk was
over, Dr. Lavendar did not seem anxious to get away. David twitched
his sleeve once or twice to indicate his own readiness, but it
appeared that Dr. Lavendar preferred to speak to the talking
gentleman. And the talking gentleman patted David's head and said: "And what do you think of foreign missions, my little boy?"
David did not answer, but he moved his head from under the large white
hand.
"You were very good and quiet," said the talking gentleman. "I saw
you, down in the pew with Dr. Lavendar. And I was very much
complimented; you never went to sleep." "I couldn't," said David,
briefly; "the seats are too hard." The talking gentleman laughed a
little, and you might have thought Dr. Lavendar skipped with his
eye;--at any rate, he laughed.
"They don't always tell us why they keep awake," he said. And the
talking gentleman didn't laugh any more.
At last, however, they stopped wasting time, and took up their round
of dissipation again. They went to see Liberty Bell; then they had
supper at a marble-topped table, in a room as big as a church! "Ice-
cream, suh?" suggested a waiter, and David said "Yes!" Dr. Lavendar
looked doubtful, but David had no doubts. Yet, half-way through that
pink and white and brown mound on his saucer, he sighed, and opened
and shut his eyes as if greatly fatigued.