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McGowan entered with an armful of wood, and as he stooped to drop it into the box Miss Pipkin looked sorrowfully at the Captain and shook her head. "I've done my best," said the seaman, slowly. "You'd think he was making his last will and testament from the way he's talking," remarked Miss Pipkin, trying hard to appear as though she was without the least concern. "Maybe I be, Clemmie. Maybe I be."
"Maybe I might," replied the old man, "but Billy Brue ain't exactly broke to a shack like this. I know just what he'd do all his spare time; he'd set down to that new-fangled horseless piano and play it to death." Uncle Peter meant the new automatic piano in the parlour.
"No!" interrupted Benson, decisively. "I am not. I never was." "You didn't let me finish," complained the man. "Wait until I'm out of the boat," proposed the submarine boy. "Then ask all the questions you like. Maybe you're paid to ask questions, but I'm paid to hold my mouth shut."
When he began to separate I could hear the bones crack, but maybe it was his pants, but anyway he came down on the floor like one of these fellows in a circus who spreads hisself, and he kept agoing and finally he surrounded an iron post with his legs, and stopped and looked pale, and the proprietor of the rink told Pa if he wanted to give a flying trapeze performance he would have to go to the gymnasium, and he couldn't skate on his shoulders any more, cause other skaters were afraid of him.
"Why, I've heard of you from Miss Pinkerton," said one young woman. "She said you were the kind of people who deserved a better chance. Maybe I can help you get one." Then they talked long and earnestly with Grandpa and Daddy. Grandpa had flapped his hands at the children and said, "Skedaddle, young-ones!"
Maybe you've noticed," he continued, falling back into his old apologetic manner in spite of his pride of resolution "maybe you've noticed that this place here has no advantages for a hotel." "I had not, indeed. I have been very comfortable." "Thank you, miss." "When do you go?" "To-night." For all his pride and fixed purpose he could not help looking eagerly in her face.
Don turned toward Harry to help with the basket of lunch, that he had been carrying since they left. Harry's eyes began to sparkle. "Maybe we will; I, for one, am out on a real adventure."
"But I can't see there's any living sense in you working yourself to death like you do." "Ho! You just pick up that coat of mine there and put it on you." "Put on your coat? Likely, indeed. I've no time to sit here now, with Goldenhorns ready to calve and all." "H'm, Calving, you say?" "As if you didn't know! But what do you think now about that same calf. Let it stay and be weaned, maybe?"
"You don't like beetle-bites any better, do you?" Taro said. "Well," said Take, "I'd rather the beetle should bite me than Mother." "Well, now, maybe you'll be a Paragon yourself sometime," the Mother said. "There weren't any women paragons, were there?" asked Taro. "Oh, yes," said the Mother.
"All I have is a vocabulary, and I don't know what half the words mean." He snapped it off. "I'm beginning to wonder if maybe Jimenez mightn't have been right and Ruth Ortheris is wrong. Maybe you can be just a little bit sapient." "Maybe it's possible to be sapient and not know it," Gus said. "Like the character in the old French play who didn't know he was talking prose."
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