how the thing disturbed him; they flared up and burned down—now gleaming in his head as he looked us over, and now dull as he considered what he saw.
The man was misshapen and doubled up, but there was strength and vigor in him. He had a great, cavernous mouth, and his voice was a sort of bellow. One has seen an oak tree, dwarfed and stunted into knots, but with the toughness and vigor of a great oak in it. Gaul was a thing like that.
He cried out when he saw Abner. He was taken by surprise; and he wished to know if we came by chance or upon some errand.
"Abner," he said, "come in. It's a devil's night—rain and the driving wind."
"The weather," said Abner, "is in God's hand."
"God!" cried Gaul. "I would shoestrap[1] such a God! The autumn is not half over and here is winter come, and no pasture left and the cattle to be fed."
Then he saw me, with my scared white face—and he was certain that we came by chance. He craned his thick neck and looked.
"Bub," he said, "come in and warm your fingers. I will not hurt you. I did not twist my body up like this to frighten children—it was Abner's God."
We entered and sat down by the fire. The apple tree blazed and crackled; the wind outside increased;
- ↑ Referring to the custom of flogging a slave with a shoemaker's strap.
25
