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OldYacobhadatendernessforhislastlittledaughter,andwasgrievedtohaveherweepuponhisshoulder.
"Yousee,mydear,he’sanidiot. Hehasdelusions;hecan’tdoanythingright."
"Iknow,"weptMedina-saroti. "Buthe’sbetterthanhewas. He’sgettingbetter. Andhe’sstrong,dearfather,andkind—strongerandkinderthananyIothermanintheworld. Andhelovesme—and,father,Ilovehim."
OldYacobwasgreatlydistressedtofindherinconsolable,and,besides—whatmadeitmoredistressing—helikedNunezformanythings. Sohewentandsatinthewindowlesscouncil-chamberwiththeothereldersandwatchedthetrendofthetalk,andsaid,atthepropertime, "He’sbetterthanhewas. Verylikely,someday,weshallfindhimassaneasourselves."
Thenafterwardsoneoftheelders,whothoughtdeeply,hadanidea. Hewasthegreatdoctoramongthesepeople,theirmedicine-man,andhehadaveryphilosophicalandinventivemind,andtheideaofcuringNunezofhispeculiaritiesappealedtohim. OnedaywhenYacobwaspresenthereturnedtothetopicofNunez.
"IhaveexaminedBogota,"hesaid,"andthecaseisclearertome. Ithinkveryprobablyhemightbecured."
"ThatiswhatIhavealwayshoped,"saidoldYacob.
"Hisbrainisaffected,"saidtheblinddoctor.
Theeldersmurmuredassent.
"Now,whataffectsit?"
"Ah!"saidoldYacob.
"This,"saidthedoctor,answeringhisownquestion.
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