Free The Title of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 8) by Ichabod Temperance Page B

other?”
    “Oh, I hope I ain’t rude Ma’am, but you sure are the spittin’ image of my gal back home.”
    “I thought as much may be the case. Does this trouble thee, good Knight?”
    “Oh no Ma’am, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am! Having you for a friend is a great comfort to me! I had been getting powerful lonesome, and being with you is almost like being with my Miss Plumtartt.”
    “It please me that my presence brings thee succor, Sir Ichabod. Her name is not unlike my own. Perhaps she is a distant relative?”
    ~gulp~ “Uh, yes, Ma’am, that’s what I was thinking. Gee, it sure is a pretty day, ain’t it, the Sun bearing down, and all.”
    “Art thee comfortable, m’lord?”
    “What? Who? Me? Oh, sure, it’s just, you know, it being so hot in here and all, I have been pretty good about not letting the sweat that pours down my face bother me, but now I can’t hardly stand it! Rivulets of saltwater have run steadily into my eyes. The burning salt in my eyes feels as if it is having a corrosive effect. I lift the visor but I can’t let go of the steering wheel to wipe. Maybe I can hold the steel visor up with the back of my gauntlet and carefully swoop a pool of salty water away from my stinging eyes for a moment of relief-ow! I just poked myself in the eye with my steel clad thumb when we hit a bump!”
    “Wouldst thou care to allow me to dab the perspiration from thy beleaguered face, m’lord, eh hem?”
    “Oh no, I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble, Ma’am. I’ll be all right.”
    “If thou sayest so, Sir Ichabod, for thou art the man.”
    “Um, yeah, right, um, it sure is a pretty day, ain’t it. Sweltering sun, birdies chirping, the insects, singing. Maybe that should be the other way around. Yep, er, shwoo! shwoo! Go away! Ah heck, Miss Stephanie, a dang ol’ fly done got in my helmet! Augh! He’s on my nose! He’s on my nose and I can’t get to him! I’m shaking my head but I can’t get him off! Ow! I done banged every side of my head that is in reach of this steel helmet and collar and I still can’t get that stupid fly off my nose! Ow! He bit me! It’s a dang ol’ bitin’ horsefly! Oh, this ain’t no good.”
    “Art thou in need of assistance yet, m’lord?”
    “Oh, no, I’m okay, Ma’am.”
    “As you wish, m’lord.”
    “Looks like a little crick up ahead, Ma’am.”
    “My assumption is this is another modernization of yours and your intended word is ‘creek’?”
    “Yes, Ma’am. It’s mostly shallow and wide, and we can easily ford across. There is a nice pool of water forming a pretty pond, but we can get around it.”
    “I do enjoy the gurgle of a babbling creek, Sir Ichabod.”
    “Um, all that gurglin’ and babblin’ of this running water is having an effect on me. I’m gonna need to stop the carriage, Ma’am.”
    “Dost thee need rest, m’lord?”
    “Um, in a manner of speaking, Ma’am. I need to see a man about a dog.”
    “Once more I fail to understand thy speech that seemeth so strange to mine ears.”
    “I need to visit the little Knight’s room.”
    “Verily, thine speech is as the most complex codex.”
    “I need to relieve myself. I’m just gonna go over behind these trees and bushes beside the pond.”
    “Um, dang, how did these old Knights do it? With this helmet on, I can’t see nothing. Even when I hold the visor up, my field of vision is severely limited. Well, I reckon I can do it without actually being able to see what I’m doing. I hope there is some sort of gate, or port of some kind. Shoot I can’t even get my gauntlets off.”
    “May I assist thee, Sir Ichabod?”
    “ Eek! Miss Stephanie! I thought you were back at the steamer!”
    “Forsooth, it seemest that I might lend a helping hand to thee Ichabod who art the man.”
    “Oh! No! I think that maybe this is something I should handle myself! I mean, woah!”
    ~splash!~
    “Sir Ichabod, thou hast backed thyself up and have fallen into yon pond! Art thee