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They would impress beholders who had not the same reasons for preoccupation as Barney Bill. "You're thinking of your 'igh-born parents," said Barney Bill. "All right, keep 'em. Only hide 'ern away safe. And now get in and let us clear out of this place. It smelts like a cheese with an escape of gas running through it. And you'd better stay inside and not show your face all day long.
I'd druther see ye plumb bad ern so all-fired no-good all round. Ye had jobs a number o' times drivin' eight an' ten on jerkline, freightin' tanbark from Longport. Ye're a good jerkline skinner, Hiram no better in the country but ye won't stick no more'n a month or two outa each year. "But I'm makin' allowances fer ye I always have I'm th' only one that ever has.
"Perhaps missus has gone to walk in the garding," said cook, "she do that at times." "Did you show 'ern out?" asked Thomas, looking at Susan. "Only Mr. Clancy," she answered, "the others had gone before. I heard what Miss Loach was saying. Mr. Clancy had quarrelled with Mrs. Herne and she had gone away with Mr. Hale. Then Miss Loach gave it to him hot and sent him away. She's all alone."
The champion who now stood up against the school-master was a famous speller. Jim Phillips was a tall, lank, stoop-shouldered fellow who had never distinguished himself in any other pursuit than spelling. Except in this one art of spelling he was of no account. He could not catch well or bat well in ball. He could not throw well enough to make his mark in that famous West ern game of bull-pen.
Ye gotta taste olives to see if ye c'n stummick 'em. Ye'll get an awful batterin'-up, I reckon, but ye'll likely learn if they's anything in ye. At first ye'll probably go to th' bad an' get a heap worse ern ye was in Bear Valley. That's neither here ner there. Th' point is, if they's a gait in ye ye'll eventually strike it. If not well, then, what's th' difference?
Bridoon's one of my lambs, as Nosebag calls 'ern. Come, Mr. a a pray, what's your name, sir? 'Butler, ma'am, said Waverley, resolved rather to make free with the name of a former fellow-officer than run the risk of detection by inventing one not to be found in the regiment. 'O, you got a troop lately, when that shabby fellow, Waverley, went over to the rebels?
"Not in this case, Ern," I said. "He would say it did not concern me, and you know nothing moves him when he determines on a thing. You'll have to reconcile yourself to losing Laddie, I'm afraid."
Ernest held on to the shoreward end of the rope like grim death, a task that was no light one for his small arms. When I finally scrambled up beside him, his face was dripping with perspiration and he trembled like a leaf. "Ern, you are a brick!" I exclaimed. "You've saved my life!" "No, it was Laddie," said Ernest, refusing to take any credit at all.
The operator wrote out his last version of the message on a telegraph-blank, inclosed it in a West ern Union envelope, which he addressed to Deacon Klegg, and gave to Abraham Lincoln, with strong injunctions to make all haste back home with it. Impressed with these, Abraham, as soon as he delivered his grain to the elevator, put his team to a trot, and maintained it until he reached home.
Make the men sleep under fewer clothes, and don't let any on 'ern hang about the galley fire, as some on 'em love to do, even now, most desperately. Them 'ere men will be good for nothin' ten weeks hence, unless they're taken off the fires, as a body would take off a pot or a kettle, and are set out to harden."
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