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B'sides, las' time, I drank to Arlt the composer. This time, it's to Arlt the accompanist. He hasn' any business to play a double rôle, if he can' stan' the double applause. To the success of Mr. Otto Arlt!" Thayer raised his glass and set it down again, untasted. As he glanced across at Arlt with an explanatory smile, he caught the eyes of Beatrix fixed upon him imploringly.
Ef we kin git past thet 'fore they close on us, we'll be safe." "But hadn't we better put about and put back? We can run clear of them that way." "Cl'ar o' the canoes ahead, yis! But not o' the others astarn. Look yonder! Thar's more o' 'em puttin' out ahint the things air everywhar!" "'Twill be safer to run on, then, you think?" "I do, sir. B'sides, thar's no help for 't now.
My father pulls up, and thinks a bit "No," says he, "damme, I'm too old, b'sides, I'm a many sizes too large," says he. "Not a bit on it, Sir," says the touter. "Think not?" says my father. "I'm sure not," says he; "we married a gen'l'm'n twice your size, last Monday." "Did you, though?" said my father.
"I guess you didn't," said the druggist, drily, eyeing him curiously. "Was I sick? Lost consciousness? This is odd very odd," said Hopewell. "I believe it must have been that lemonade." Mr. Cross Moore snorted. "Lemonade!" he ejaculated. "Suthin' b'sides tartaric acid to aid the lemons in that lemonade, Hopewell. You was drunk!" Drugg blinked at him.
"Oh, we got a horse-hoe," said Marty, without interest. "But it got broke an' Dad ain't fixed it yet. B'sides, ye couldn't use it 'twixt these rows. They're too crooked. But then as the feller said there's more plants in a crooked row." "What's all that?" demanded Janice, waving a hand toward the other half of the garden. "Weeds mostly. Right there's carrots.
Their frocks'll git torn if they help us, an' they'll git afire or or somethin'!" "Nuck's sisters will be there. They'll want other girls," said the wise Lot. "An' b'sides, Mis' Harding'll be lots better to us if the girls is there. She allus is my marm is. Mothers like girls, but boys is only a nuisance, they says."
An' then you want to worry over 'er as well. She'll be all right. Miss Laura's like peas. You've got to get 'em outer the pod they're in there sure enough. An' b'sides I guess school'll knock all the nonsense out of 'er." "Oh, I hope they won't be too hard on her," said Mother in quick alarm. "Shut the side gate, will you. Those children have left it open again.
"Talkin' 'bout Injuns," said Bill, "all I don't know 'bout 'em you c'd write on a hummin'-bird's finger-nail." "Hummin'-birds don't have no finger-nails," corrected Shorty Palmer. "Sure they don't," allowed Bill. "But you c'd write it on one if they did." "They has claws," persisted Shorty. "B'sides, no hummin'-bird ain't goin' t' stay still long enough for you to write on his claw."
"Wha' ye say, Perez, z'all right, but wha'n time be yew a sayin on it fer? Ye be dressed so fine, an a cap'n b'sides, that we callated ye'd take yer tod tew the store, long with the silk stockins, 'stid o' consortin with common folks like we be." There was a general sensation. Every mouth was opened, and every neck craned forward to catch the reply. "Did you think so, Meshech?
There was a general outburst of surprise and satisfaction. "By gosh, it looks like gineral trainin, or'n ordination." "Looks kinder 'z if a good many fellers b'sides us hed business with the jestices this mornin." "I'd no idee courts wuz so pop'lar." "They ain't stocks nuff in Berkshire fer all the fellers as is out tidday, that's one sure thing, by gol."
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