"
"What! that a man killed three hundred men with the jawbone of an
ass? It couldn't have been; it was sheer impossible--unless they
were all asleep, and even then it would be an awful job."
"I don't know how it was, Seth, but the Bible tells us, and so it
must be true. I think it was a sort of miracle."
"Oh, it was a miracle!" Seth said thoughtfully, and then remained
silent, evidently pondering in his own mind as to what a miracle
was, but not liking to ask.
"It was a very long time ago, Seth, and they were no doubt a
different people then."
"Was it a very, very long time back?" Seth asked.
"Yes, Seth; a very, very, very long time."
"Ah!" Seth said in a thoughtful but more satisfied tone, "I
understand now. I expect it's that. It's the same thing among the
Indians: they have got stories of chiefs who died ever so long ago,
who used to be tremendous fellows--traditions they call 'em. I
don't expect they were any braver than they are now; but a thing
grows, you see, like a tree, with age. Lor' bless 'em! if they tell
such tales now about a Jew, what will they do some day about Rube
Pearson?"
The young Hardys could stand it no longer, but went off into a
scream of laughter, which even the surprised and offended looks of
the ignorant and simple minded, but shrewd, Yankee could not check.
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