As I was stowing these he explained that his
sport had been wretched; no fish had been hooked because his guide had
not known where to find them. I here glanced at the backwoods person
referred to and at once did not like the look in his eyes. He winked
swiftly at Cousin Egbert, who coughed rather formally.
"Let Ruggles help you to change," continued Mrs. Effie. "He's awfully
handy. Poor Cousin Egbert is perfectly helpless now without him."
So I followed our host to his own detached hut, though feeling a bit
queer at being passed about in this manner, I mean to say, as if I
were a basket of fruit. Yet I found it a grateful change to be serving
one who knew our respective places and what I should do for him. His
manner of speech, also, was less barbarous than that of the others,
suggesting that he might have lived among our own people a fortnight
or so and have tried earnestly to correct his deficiencies. In fact he
remarked to me after a bit: "I fancy I talk rather like one of
yourselves, what?" and was pleased as Punch when I assured him that I
had observed this. He questioned me at length regarding my association
with the Honourable George, and the houses at which we would have
stayed, being immensely particular about names and titles.
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