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"Y'u talk a heap with your mouth. Nobody believes a word of what y'u say." Denver relaxed into a range song by way of repartee: "I want mighty bad to be married, To have a garden and a home; I ce'tainly aim to git married, And have a gyurl for my own." "Aw! Y'u fresh guys make me tired. Y'u don't devil me a bit, not a bit. Whyfor should I care what y'u say?
"He do be a moighty foine bye, Jack Keith," she said, apparently addressing the side wall. "Oi wish Oi'd a knowed him whin Oi was a gyurl; shure, it's not Murphy me noime'd be now, Oi'm t'inkin'." Left alone, the girl bowed her head on her hands, a hot tear stealing down through her fingers. As she glanced up again, something that glittered on the floor beside the bed caught her eyes.
The owld gint thinks so, too, an' that's why he's so hot afther catchin' him. May the divil admoire me av Oi know where this Maclaire gyurl comes in, but Oi'll bet the black divil has get her marked fer some part in the play. What would Oi do? Be goory, Oi'd go to Sheridan, an' foind the Gineral, an' till him all I knew. Maybe he could piece it together, an' guess what Hawley was up ter."
Ef dat ar gyurl doan light out wid me nex' time I ax her, den I eats a mule." And then Chunk apparently vanished from the scene. The next morning Miss Lou awoke feeble, dazed and ill. In a little while her mind rallied sufficiently to recall what had happened, but her symptoms of nervous prostration and lassitude were alarming. Mrs. Whately was sent for, and poor Mr.
"Yes, and gave you little presents and told you to be a good gyurl and never disgrace your uncle. Oh, I know him! But he took precious good care not to let you know where he lived." "But you know?" she exclaimed. "No fear, Polly. You shall, too, if you have patience, though I don't say it'll be just yet." A few more questions, and the girl had told everything Mr.
"It's little the loss to ye not ter be her, an' Oi'm thinkin' loikely Jack Keith will be moighty well plased ter know the truth. What's 'Black Bart' so ayger ter git hold av this Maclaire gyurl fer?" "I do not in the least know. He must have induced me to go to that place in the desert believing me to be the other woman. Yet he said nothing of any purpose; indeed, he found no opportunity." Mrs.
Fwhere are ye goin'?" "I won't be gone long," said Cordelia, half out of the hall door. "Cordalia Angeline, darlin'," said her mother, "mind, now, doan't let them be talkin' about ye, fwherever ye go shakin' yer shkirts an' rollin' yer eyes. It doan't luk well for a gyurl to be makin' hersel' attractive." "Oh, mother, I'm not attractive, and you know it."
"Makes my Epitaph gyurl look like a chromo beside her. Somehow, when she looks at a fellow, he feels like a whitewashed nigger." All of them laughed at that, but both Leroy and the sheriff tried to banter her by insisting that they knew exactly what York meant.
Don't disappoint me, Ned, for the ould man has belaved in ye more than ye've belaved in yersilf. As to the gyurl bah! go marry her some day, av ye've nothin' more importhant on yer hands. "But, me dear boy, spakin' o' importhant things, I ralely must be goin' now. I've certain importhant preparations that are essintial before I get dhrunk this avenin' "
Murphy reëntered, and forced her to drink the concoction prepared, the girl accepting with smiling protest. The landlady, empty glass in hand, swept her eyes about the room. "Bedad, but the place looks betther than iver Oi'd belaved, wid the gyurl Oi've got tindin' to it. She's that lazy she goes ter slape swapin' the flure.
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