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I comed by the gal 'onest enough, an' she never comed to no 'arm through me, less mendin' 'er does for 'er, and bringin' 'er to London, and bein' a mother to 'er, an' givin' 'er a few baskets an' matches to sell is a-doin' 'er any 'arm. An' as to beggin' she would beg, she loved to beg an' say texes. 'Old kidnapper! I cried, maddened by the visions that came upon me.
My plan is this: first get rid of that infamous law, and then go ahead and by degrees get municipal ownership. Some of the reformers are sayin' that municipal ownership won't do because it would give a lot of patronage to the politicians. How those fellows mix things up when they argue! They're givin' the strongest argument in favor of municipal ownership when they say that.
Enraged at having been flaunted before a jeering audience the patrolman pushed his prisoner ten feet along the sidewalk, imparting to the offender's movements an involuntary gliding gait, with backward jerks between forward shoves; this method of propulsion being known in the vernacular of the force as "givin' a skate the bum's rush."
I wants to know if Stiff Miller is still manager down at No. 11 branch, and who's wearin' the red stripe yet; while Hunch he puts over a few polite quizzes as to how I'm gettin' on with the Corrugated people. We hadn't been gassin' but five minutes or so, and there's ten more due on the clock before lunch hour is over, when I looks up to see our Mr. Piddie going by and givin' me the frown.
He is a atheist, and he hain't willin' she should help on the Cause of religeon. And if he knows of her givin' any to the Cause, he makes the awfulest fuss, scolds, and swears, and threatens her, so's she has been made sick by it, time and agin." "Wall," sez I, "what business is it to him what she does with her own money and her own property?" I said this out full and square.
Boys fer I've seen you all bought er broke on my solemn repitation fer a three-minute clip, I ain't givin' you no bran-mash o' my own fixin'. I'm tellin' you my experiences, an' I've had ez heavy a load an' ez high a check 's any horse here.
He was trembling down with a suppression of rage and concern for the rising gale in her voice. "You can't make a scene in public with me and get away with it. If that's your game, it won't land you anywhere. Stop it! Stop it now and talk sense, or I'll get up. By God! if you get noisy, I'll get up and leave you here with the whole place givin' you the laugh. You can't throw a scare in me."
Raising himself to his feet within the limited range of the clump of trees, he peered anxiously across the river, searching the opposite bank from the east to where it curved southward above the camp. "Gor swizzle! Ef she don't come soon I gotta git over thar an' trail her. . . . An' that means givin' up the job . . . an' mebbe losin' out.
Here was a regular person, all dolled up in a classy evening gown, with a fur-trimmed opera cape slippin' off her shoulders. And she was givin' him the straight call. "But but there must be some mistake," protests Ernie. "If there is," says I, "it's up to you to put the lady wise. You can't walk off and leave her with her hands in the air, can you? Ah, don't be a fish! Step up."
"But what kind of a dog is it?" "I don't know. Henry used to own the mother of it, and she was one quarter mastiff and the rest assorted varieties. This one he's givin' me ain't a whole dog, you see; just a half-grown pup. The varioloid all over again hey? Ho, ho! I didn't really take him for sartin, you understand; just on trial. If we like him, we'll keep him, that's all."
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