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"And you're lettin' this handful of tenderfeet buffalo you! Hell's hinges! Ain't none of you got any guts?" Gosse dragged slowly a brown hand across an unshaven chin. "I reckon you wouldn't call 'em tenderfeet if you met up with 'em, Bully. There's something about these guys I dunno what it is exactly but there's sure something that tells a fellow not to prod 'em overly much."
Don't be hard on those under you, m'sieu'. Remember wasps and spiders can sting in their own way, and that dogs can bite." "Little black beast," was the short reply, "I'll strip your hide for Hell's gridiron in good time." "Bien, m'sieu', but you'll be in hell waiting, for I'm going to bury you here where you call better men than yourself dogs and wasps and spiders and beetles.
Hell's got perfectly good grounds for a libel suit against William Tecumseh for what he up and said about it and war, all in the same breath." Lanyard smiled faintly, but Dressler pondered this obscure reference with patent distress. Crane champed his cigar reflectively. "What's more to our purpose," he said presently: "I shouldn't be surprised if this meant the wind-up of our rest-cure here.
"But they give to the poor, speak kindly to the stranger, even though he be clothed in rags. I am sure they would not lie or steal or kill." "But they will blaspheme a little sometimes. Just listen to those colonels. Didn't you hear them say 'damn' and 'Hell's fire' and 'Devil'? O, according to our theology there's no hope for 'em.
"It's I who'll be lucky, if she don't turn me down. Man, I'm not worth the dust on her shoes. I'm not fit to lackey for her. Nor nor is any other feller. Say, Bud," he went on, leaning impressively forward, his eyes shining with his passion, "I'm just crazy to death for her. And and I can't just help it. I'd go through hell's flames for her, man, I'd " "Say, boy, don't worry that-a-way.
Oh, hell's not hell with Eve to tell Again the ancient tale, But Eden's grassy ways and bowers Deprived of Eve to ease the hours Would very soon grow stale! Red cherry lips that leap to laugh, And chic and flick and flair Can make black white for any one The task of Sisyphus good fun! So what should Adam care!
He's got ter be halted an' I kain't afford ter be knowd in ther matter one way ner t'other. Go see him an' tell him he'll incense everybody an' bring on hell's own mischief ef he don't hold his hand. Tell him his chanst'll come afore long but right now, I say he's got ter quit hit."
''Twas only on Christmas eve', he said to the rest, 'he was in such straits, that he came and asked for a morsel of food in God's name, and now he gives a feast as if he were count or king'; and he turned to his brother and said: 'But whence, in Hell's name, have you got all this wealth? 'From behind the door', answered the owner of the quern, for he didn't care to let the cat out of the bag.
When an unrisky opportunity offered, one lovely summer day, when we had sounded and buoyed a tangled patch of crossings known as Hell's Half Acre, and were aboard again and he had sneaked the PENNSYLVANIA triumphantly through it without once scraping sand, and the A. T. LACEY had followed in our wake and got stuck, and he was feeling good, I showed it to him. It amused him.
Observable matters along the road were the stage, all the dust of yesterday brushed off, and no new dust contracted, full of passengers, inside and out; among them some gentlemanly people and pretty girls, all looking fresh and unsullied, rosy, cheerful, and curious as to the face of the country, the faces of passing travellers, and the incidents of their journey; not yet damped, in the morning sunshine, by long miles of jolting over rough and hilly roads, to compare this with their appearance at midday, and as they drive into Bangor at dusk; two women dashing along in a wagon, and with a child, rattling pretty speedily down hill; people looking at us from the open doors and windows; the children staring from the wayside; the mowers stopping, for a moment, the sway of their scythes; the matron of a family, indistinctly seen at some distance within the house, her head and shoulders appearing through the window, drawing her handkerchief over her bosom, which had been uncovered to give the baby its breakfast, the said baby, or its immediate predecessor, sitting at the door, turning round to creep away on all fours; a man building a flat-bottomed boat by the roadside: he talked with B about the Boundary question, and swore fervently in favor of driving the British "into hell's kitchen" by main force.
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