"
The baited Frenchman turned on Father Baby; but, like a skittish girl,
the friar hopped across the room, shook off his wooden shoes, picked up
the skirt of his habit, and began to dance. The exhilarating drink, the
ruddiness of the fire, the discomfort outside, the smoothness of the oak
boards,--these were conditions of happiness for Father Baby. This was
perhaps the crowning instant of his experience. He was a butterfly man.
He saw his lodger, Dr. Dunlap, appear at the door as haggard as the
dead. The friar's first thought was:--
"That fellow has proposed for Mademoiselle Saucier and been
rejected. I'm glad I'm a churchman, and not yoked up to draw a
family, like these fools, and like he wants to be. This bowing
down and worshiping another human being,--crazy if you don't get
her, and crazed by her if you do,--I'll have none of it."
Dr. Dunlap raised his arms and shouted to the company in the bar-room.
What he said no one could hear. Hissing and roaring filled the world,
submerging the crackling of the fire, the banjo tunes, and human voices.
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