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But oh! when I DID find the house, and DID dismount at the garden-gate, and drag those stony-hearted boots across the lawn to Dora sitting on a garden-seat under a lilac tree, what a spectacle she was, upon that beautiful morning, among the butterflies, in a white chip bonnet and a dress of celestial blue!
I tell you I've set my foot down, and I won't take it up for my own mother, and I'm sure I won't for anything that ever was or will be under your clo'es." With this, he jerked up the harness and went off to the barn, with an air that convinced Chip that the controversy between mother and son was not likely to be decided in his favor at a sufficiently early hour to answer his purpose.
"Help me pick him up," said Cummings, "and be quick about it, there's another beak around." "I can't. I've got his darbies on." Cummings stooped down, and lifting Chip in his arms, walked rapidly down the road toward the river. "What are you going to do with him, Jim?" "Chuck him through the ice. He knows too much."
"I didn't set you afoot," he said. "That was a bad break you made yourself. Why didn't you do as I told you hang to the bridle and fight Denver off with your whip? You had one." "Yes and let him gnaw me!" Chip gurgled again, and drew the tobacco sack shut with his teeth. "He wouldn't 'gnaw' you he wouldn't have come near you. He's whip trained. And I'd have been there myself in another minute."
Sir Humphrey produced two similar checks. "Well, sir, were Irving here to-day I'd willingly present him with this Presbyterian chip. There are some things to which I remain sensitive, and I look this ticket in the face with misgivings.
For the rest, you need about two extras in case you chip chunks out of these in climbing; and if you camp near glaciers or snow fields, a pair of moccasins for night wear will add to comfort.
The instigator of this new movement was Jake Schultz, whose histrionic ambition had been fired during his apprenticeship as "super" at the opera-house. "I know a man what rents costumes, an' the promp'-books to go with 'em," he said to several of the boys one Sunday afternoon. "If we all chip in we kin raise the price, an' git it back easy by chargin' admittance." "Aw, shucks!" said Chris.
The indicated obituaries followed. "Well, at any rate, they didn't murder him for it." "The son now, a chip of the old block, eh?" "Nothing of the kind, a quiet young prig." "The papers say " "Damn the papers, they never know anything." "You mean they don't print what they do know." "I mean they don't give us the woman. For it was a woman. I'll eat my hat it was a woman."
If considerations of modesty or hygiene compelled every one to stain canvas or chip marble every morning, painting and sculpture would in like manner be despised.
And Laury, even she isn't contented; she wants to be some sort of artist, make statters or picters, or be a milliner, at least. So you see I haven't a minute's peace of my life with 'em." Of course Chip saw it, and the more's the pity. "All the better, Madam," said he. "Young America must go ahead. There's nothing to be had without venturing.
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