"I see you don't grasp the idea," Morrison hastened to put in. "We mustn't
have the flavor of the joke spoiled. I know Paul, here. He works in my
mill. He has a little affliction that's rather common among French
Canadians. He's a jumper." He suddenly clapped the youth on the shoulder
and yelled "Hi!" so loudly that all the auditors leaped in trepidation.
The soldier leaped the highest, flung his arms about wildly, and let out a
resounding yelp.
"That's the idea!" explained Stewart. "A congenital nervous trouble.
Jumpers, they are called!"
"What the devil is this all about?" raged the Governor.
"Tell 'em, Paul. Hurry up!"
"I gone off on de nap on a settee," muttered Duchesne, twisting his
fingers together.
General Totten winced.
"Dere ban whole lot o' dem gone off on de nap, too," asserted the guard,
offering defense for himself.
"By way of showing alertness, Totten!" growled the Senator.
"So I ban dream somet'ing! Ba gar! I dream dat t'ree or two bobcat he
come--"
"Never mind the details of the dream, Paul!" interposed Morrison. "These
gentlemen have business! Get 'em to the laugh, quick!"
"Ma big button on ma belt she caught on de crack between de slat of dat
settee.
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