_"
Whereat Bill The Hollander registered a disgusted kick in The Young
Pole's direction and swearingly resumed his _paillasse_.
All this, the reader understands, having taken place in the terribly cold
darkness of the half-dawn.
That very day, after a great deal of examination (on the part of the
Surveillant) of the participants in this Homeric struggle--said
examination failing to reveal the particular guilt or the particular
innocence of either--Judas, immaculately attired in a white coat, arrived
from downstairs with a step ladder and proceeded with everyone's
assistance to reconstruct the original pipe. And a pretty picture Judas
made. And a pretty bum job he made. But anyway the stove-pipe drew; and
everyone thanked God and fought for places about _le poele_. And Monsieur
Pet-airs hoped there would be no more fights for a while.
One might think that The Young Pole had learned a lesson. But no. He had
learned (it is true) to leave his immediate neighbour, America Lakes, to
himself; but that is all he had learned. In a few days he was up and
about, as full of _la blague_ as ever. The Zulu seemed at times almost
worried about him. They spoke together in Polish frequently and--on The
Zulu's part--earnestly.
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