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"And in any case a tower without a tapering spire never soars to heaven. It always rises heavily, pants on the way, and falls asleep exhausted. It is, as it were, an arm without a hand, a wrist without palm and fingers, a stump; or, again, a pencil uncut, having no point wherewith to write up beyond the clouds the prayers from below; in short, it is for ever inert.
We came in, and there was a pair of pants hanging on a nail. He walked over to them, and the next thing we knew he had a gun on us. I hope I know when a man means business and he did. He had half a notion to shoot anyway." "That's right," Pugh confirmed. "He's one of them kids that makes gunmen. No bluff. I know the kind." "So when he told me to tie Pugh I did it," Glass continued.
We had in our company, several soldiers, who had neither coat nor pants. They were down to shirts and drawers, as nothing had come to them from Tuscaloosa, they being from another section. Capt. Lumsden sent for them and told them he would not insist on their going on parade, in that condition, but that if they would, he did not doubt, that it would result in getting them some clothing.
Yes, suh, it took that long to find just the right make-up. To get just the right kind of ill-fitting white gloves and floppy shoes and nondescript pants. But it's an important entrance. The lazy crooked grin is a bit nervous. The dolorous eyes peer sadly through the opening door of this new theater. Lawdy, man, this is got a Broadway first night backed off the boards.
"But Mrs Willis may object to such a dirty ragged fellow coming about her," said I. "Ain't there no pumps in London, stoopid?" said Slidder, with a look of pity, "no soap?" "True," I replied, with a laugh, "but you'd require needles and thread and cloth, in addition, to make yourself respectable." "Nothink of the sort; I can beg or borrer or steal coats and pants, you know."
"It is all I have in the world." "Pooh! you are young and can soon earn some more. I must have the whole of it." "Can't you leave me five dollars?" "No, I can't. Forty dollars are little enough to serve my turn." So saying, he coolly deposited the pocketbook in the pocket of his pants. "So far so good.
And say, it wa'n't so long ago that Abey was wearin' sky-blue pants and a Postal shield, trottin' out with messages from District Ten. But here he is, with a checked ulster and a five-dollar hat, writin' figures on a pad. "Hello, Motzie!" says I. "How long since they lets the likes of you inside the ropes?" "Hello, Torchy!" says he. "Got any orders?" "I'm lined with 'em," says I. "What's good?"
An E minor chord from our friend at the piano. Hm, something classical. Ho, ho! Viotti. Well, well, here's a howdeedo. His nobs is going to play the concerto. Good-by, good luck and God bless him. If I was in bed, if I was in bed, I wouldn't have to listen to a refined gentleman with his swell pants unpressed murdering poor Viotti. A swell gentleman with his eyes carefully made up.
Having said her say, and gotten her way as she was perfectly sure she would Madame left the gentlemen of her household to their own reflections and devices. "Parson!" The Butterfly Man seemed to come out of a trance. "Remember the day you made me let a caterpillar crawl up my hand?" "Yes, my son." "Parson, there's a horrible big teaparty crawling up my pants' leg this minute!"
"'Pants' is truly Western, isn't it, Laura?" asked Amelia Boggs. "Civilized folk say trousers." "I see I have much to learn," said Rhoda, too meekly, perhaps. She slipped quickly into the roomy overalls behind the curtain, and then came forth, putting on the jumper. Her bare arms and shoulders were brown and firm. Nan thought Rhoda's figure was as attractive as her face was pretty.
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