“Thank you!” cried the sheriff, cheerily. “One precinc ` heard from ne dollah! I am offahed one dollah foh ole King Sol `mon. One dollah the king! Make it a half. One dollah an ` a half. Make it a half. One dol-dol-dol-dollah!”
Two medical students, returning from lectures at the old Medical I fall, now joined the group, and the sheriff explained:
“One dollah is bid foh the vagrant ole King Sol `mon, who is to be sole into labah foh a twelvemonth. Is there any othah bid? Are you all done? One dollah, once ”
“Dollah and a half,” said one of the students, and remarked half jestingly under his breath to his companion. “I `ll buy him on the chance of his dying. We `ll dissect him.”
“Would you own his body if he should die?”
“If he dies while bound to me, I `ll arrange that.”
“One dollah an ` a half,” resumed the sheriff; and falling into the tone of a facile auctioneer he rattled on:
“One dollah an ` a half foh ole Sol `mon sol, sol sol, do, re, mi, fa, sol do, re, mi, fa, sol! Why, gentlemen, you can set the king to music!”
Imperfect Humanity
All this time the vagrant had stood in the center of that close ring of jeering and humorous bystanders a baffling text from which to have preached a sermon on the infirmities of our imperfect humanity. Some years before, perhaps as a master stroke of derision, there had been l given to him that title which could but heighten the contrast of his personality and estate with every suggestion of the ancient sacred magnificence; and never had the mockery seemed so fine as at this moment, when he was led forth into the streets to receive the lowest sentence of the law upon his poverty and dissolute idleness. He was apparently in the very prime of life a striking figure, for nature at least had truly done some royal work on him.
Over six feet in height, erect, with limbs well shaped and sinewy, with chest and neck full of the lines of great power, a large head thickly covered with long reddish hair, eyes blue, face beardless, complexion fair but discolored by low passions and excesses such was old King Solomon.
He wore a stiff, high, black Castor hat of the period, with the crown smashed in and the torn rim hanging down over one ear; a black cloth coat in the style, ragged and buttonless; a white cotton shirt, with the broad collar crumpled, wide open at the neck and down his sunburnt bosom; blue jeans pantaloons, patched at the seat and the knees; and ragged cotton socks that fell down over the tops of his dusty shoes, which were open at the heels.
Read More about King Solomon of Kentucky part 10
