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"Why," sez Dick, "you ain't makin' two percent profit, an' I was just wonderin' what you stayed here for if it wasn't for somethin' else beside the filthy looger." Jabez, he jumps to his feet an' goes all through it again, tellin' all he has took in an' all he has paid out; while Dick kept attendin' to his pots an' pans the same as if he was stone deaf.
"Why, you silly little kid, that's a movie, not a novel. I've seen Ursus and his bull, all right. You're makin' me stuck on myself. I feel as if I was it." "Well, you are it. I christen you Ursus. And thank you very much for taking so much trouble about me." "I didn't take trouble," protested Ursus, half afraid that he was being "kidded."
"Sure; I know that," he replied. "An' you? You makin' out all right too, Miss Pilgrim? That Vice-vice-Consulate o' yours keepin' you pretty busy?" The brisk pink flooded across her face in a quick flush, and her mouth drooped. But her eyes, as always, were steady against his. "There hasn't been anybody yet," she answered, with a look that deprecated his smile. He hastened to be sympathetic.
Says I to myself, 'Mandy Randle's the one for me. So I washed up the buggy and hitched up the horse and come right out. I been comin' ever since, because that there first impression of mine has been bore out by facts.... I'm askin' you, Mandy, will you be Missis Baines?" "You're stiddy and savin' and makin'," said Mandy. "Add what you got to what I got, and we'll be pretty well off.
'But, beggin' your pardon, sir, if it's about dogs you want to know, why not have a look in at the kennels ay, an' follow the hounds now an' then? I've often wondered, makin' so bold, how a gentleman like yourself, an' knowin' what's good for health, can go wastin' time on dead fishes, with a pack o' hounds, so to speak, at your door.
Mullen is so fond of preachin' about." For a moment he considered the fact as though impressed anew by its importance. "I'm glad you feel that way, because ma has always stuck out that you had the makin' of a mighty fine cook in you." "Has she? That was nice of her, wasn't it?" "Well, she wouldn't have said so if she hadn't thought it. It ain't her way to say pleasant things when she can help it.
When Will treats me fair I'll treat him fair. I can't do a heap of work, seein' I'm as I am, but if he wants me to do things I'll do 'em if he treats me fair. I'll do what I ken, but I hate him. Maybe you're guessin' that'll be makin' things fair for Eve. You best guess agin." Then the impish light left his eyes, and they became quite serious again. "Say, tell me some more 'bout that gold?"
"Law," said Stephen. "Gosh!" exclaimed Mr. Hopper, "I want to know." In reality he was a bit chagrined, having pictured with some pleasure the Boston aristocrat going from store to store for a situation. "You didn't come here figurin' on makin' a pile, I guess." "A what?" "A pile." Stephen looked down and over Mr. Hopper attentively.
"And I didn't know who you meant," proceeded 'Manda Grier, busy with the cups and saucers, "when you kept hurryin' me up to change it; 'Oh, quick, quick! How long you are! I know he'll get away; I know he will! and I had to just sling on a shawl and rush out after this boneset." "There! Now that shows she's makin' it all up!" cried Statira. "She put on a sack, and I helped her on with it myself.
Some of the best men I ever met were English, and I've stood back to back with a British mate on a Genoa wharf when half of Italy was hoppin' around makin' proclamations that they was goin' to swallow us alive. And, somehow or 'nother, they didn't. Took with prophetic indigestion, maybe. "However, this Englishman at Acapulco was diff'rent.
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