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She pressed her red lips together; her face was bent upon him as though she watched. "But," he stammered, "you tell me all the time, a dozen times a day, that I'm badly trained. What good's my advice?" "Are you badly trained?" "I suppose so." "You are absurdly unselfish, Pete!" She moved a chip along the ground with her foot, but Pete failed to notice this curious seeing gesture. "Why?
All the later editions of Denson, Pilgreen and Beckman have taken possession of my office and as the Countess says: 'Them Beckman kids is holy terrors an' it's savin' the rod an' spoilin' the kid that makes 'em so!" Chip laughed outright. "The Denson kids are a heap worse, if she only knew it," he said, and followed her willingly.
With his axe, the edge beautifully ground and sharpened to a razor-like finish, he could trim a piece of wood, or shape it, so neatly that it presented almost the appearance of having been planed; his saw, with no apparent effort, raced from end to end of a board or across the grain of a piece of "quartering," and his chisels and plane irons were ground to the correct concave bevel that relieves the parting of a chip or shaving, and gives what he called "sweetness" to the cutting action.
Yip-yap!" cried the little chickie. "Why, what in the world are you doing away off here?" asked Uncle Wiggily. "You poor little dear! Where is your mother?" "Oh, me! Oh, my!" cried the little chickie. "I only wish I knew. I'm lost! I wandered away from my mamma, and my brothers, and sisters, and I'm lost in these woods. Oh chip! Oh chap! Oh yip! Oh yap!"
"I only just wanted to remind you fellows that I don't mean anything personal and I don't want you to. Say, what about One Man Coulee?" he asked suddenly. "That's marked vacant on the map. I always thought " "Sure, you did!" Chip grinned at him wisely, "because we used it for a line camp, you thought we owned a deed to it. Well, we don't. We had that land leased, is all."
Indeed she was riding so light that heavy weather would upset her like a chip. It seemed as if the crew had looted the Minnie B in a thorough and extraordinary manner, and then had simply vanished. Every now and then in their search the two would find themselves standing motionless, open-mouthed, listening intently to the brooding silence.
As well put out my tiny hand and sweep back that stormy flood of water to the ocean where it comes from! as hopefully, as practicably. What am I, I but a chip or a shingle tossed and chased along on the power of the waves? The wicked are like the troubled sea when it cannot rest; that is it, it cannot rest. Look at it, and think of bidding it rest!"
Left alone Sam took a more deliberate survey of the apartment and could hardly repress an exclamation of satisfaction as he saw lying on the floor the old slouch hat which Chip had worn the preceding day.
I got some awful thumps, but mostly on the body. Jimmy Nowlett began to get excited and jump round he was an excitable little fellow. 'Fight! you ! he yelled. 'Why don't you fight? That ain't fightin'. Fight, and don't try to murder each other. Use your crimson hands or, by God, I'll chip you! Fight, or I'll blanky well bullock-whip the pair of you; then his language got awful.
This was Jem Chip, the treasurer of the Weldon Institute. Chip was a confirmed vegetarian, a proscriber of all animal nourishment, of all fermented liquors, half a Mussulman, half a Brahman. On this occasion Jem Chip was supported by another member of the club, William T. Forbes, the manager of a large factory where they made glucose by treating rags with sulphuric acid.
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