Suddenly Diana hailed and waved her hand, the Tinker checked Diogenes
in full career, and with a jingling clank the cart pulled up as a man
sprang lightly forth of the dry ditch wherein he had been sitting, a
man of no great stature but clean-limbed and shapely, despite rough
and dusty clothes,--a keen-eyed, short-nosed, square-jawed fellow
whose mouth had a humorous twist.
"Why, Jessamy," said Diana, leaning down to give him her hand, "'t is
good t' see you!"
"And so it is, lad!" nodded the Tinker. "How goeth the good work?"
"Fairish, Jeremy, fairish!" answered Jessamy, in a sweet voice
peculiarly rich and mellow. "Old Nick's a toughish customer d'ye see,
and a glutton for punishment; wind him, cross-buttock him or floor him
wi' a leveller amidships, but he'll come up smiling next round, ready
and willin' for more, an' fight back at you 'ard as ever, alas!"
Here I got down from the cart that I might better behold the speaker,
who now turned to glance at me with a pair of the kindliest blue eyes
I had ever seen.
"Jessamy," said Diana, "this is my--my friend Peregrine as do want you
to teach him the game."
"The game," repeated Jessamy, shaking his head a little ruefully, "the
game's all vanity and vexation o' spirit! Besides, your young friend
don't look cut out for the ring--"
"Lord, Jess, he don't want to be a fighter! Peregrine only wants to
know how--"
"Why, that's different," sighed the ex-pugilistic champion, "though I
ain't got the heart nor yet the time to teach any one--"
"But I want you to, Jessamy," said Diana imperiously.
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