p, for want of food!
Bootiful story, bootiful story!"

Finding it was in vain to enlighten the Count, Annie gave over her task,
and the Count kept repeating, as if to himself: "_Oui, oui_, bootiful
story, Monsieur Pay-dook, bootiful story! _bien_ bootiful story indeed!
pauvre demoiselle! pauvre demoiselle! Joe--what you call it. She too
good for Monsieur Took Ear. He run away--he fall down--he sing. She die
to get rid of him. (Shrugging his shoulders and grimacing most
laughably.) He run away--he fall down--he sing! pauvre demoiselle!"

"I think he must have been crazy!" said Jobson, "not to eat when he
could get a chance, and he hungry too, lying there a week or more; and
only think, on the damp ground all this time. I wonder he didn't catch
the rheumatism!"

"No crazy, Monsieur Jobsoon! no crazy! he sing to keep courage up. I
sing sometime to keep courage up ven I think of _la belle France_--of
Paris! Bootiful story, Monsieur Paydook! _vrai_ bootiful story! Mooch
oblege, mooch oblege!"

By this time the sun was setting, and the hollow was filled with sweet
rosy light. Every leaf flashed, and the "Bounding Deer" was tinged with
the beautiful radiance. Soon the light crept up, leaving the bottom of
this huge rocky chalice in shadow, whilst the rim was encompassed with
rich brilliance. The sun poured down one stream of glory through a cleft
in the bank or side of this Titan Goblet, like the visioned future which
glows before the sight of happy youth, and then vanished. The gold rim
vanished also; still there appeared to be no disposition among the party
to leave the scene. Twilight began to shimmer, and now the stars
trembled forth from the dusky sky. At last night settled on the
landscape, and the girls expressed a wish to see the hollow lighted up
with torchlight. Scattering ourselves amongst the trees of the bank,
some splinters of the pitch pine were procured, and matches kindled each
splinter into thick crimson flame. I clambered up as far as the basin of
the first "bound" of the "Deer," and looked down to enjoy the scene.
Scores of dark red torches were flashing in every direction, disclosing
faces, forms, water, trees and grass, in broken fitful glances and in
the most picturesque manner. Sometimes a deep light caught upon the
edges of a hemlock, then upon the form of some graceful girl, then upon
a huge rock, like the gleaming of stormy lightning, whilst the "Deer"
bounded down, tawny as the shell of the ches