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I nearly wore my eyes out, too, sizin' up the first trainload, and after an hour's wait I was gettin' dizzy keepin' track of the second lot, when all of a sudden I spots this old chap with the thick underbrush over his eyes and the sole leather complexion. "Oh, you Uncle Jerry!" I sings out, takin' a chance and pushin' through the crowd with my hand out. "Wall, how be ye?" says he, real hearty.

I reckon I'll be pushin' on my reins." He turned toward the window. "Stop right there where you're at," she ordered sharply. "Take a step to that window and I'll holler for a harness bull like a Bowery bride gettin' a wallopin' from friend husband. I gotta have an explanation. And who told you I was scared? Forget that stuff. Take it from Annie that she ain't the kind that scares."

"Bein' 's it's Sattidy night, 'most likely he'll come." "Hope Abner's feelin' friendly, then," said Pliny with an anticipatory twinkle in his shrewd little gray eyes which gave direct contradiction to his words. "If Abner hain't feelin' jest cheerful them boys'll be wrastlin' all over town and pushin' down houses." "They hain't never fit yet," said Scattergood.

Then he said no more, but watched his boat, warding it off carefully until they reached the mouth of the creek and got inside, with nothing worse to contend against than the insolent wind and rain. "This is a purty stiff tide, for this time o' day. It won't take long to pull up to Skippanon, with all this water pushin' us along. Goin' home to-night, Joe?"

"'I've a-sarved 'ee faithful, said Jim, 'an' now you turns me out wi' a week's warnin'. 'You've a-crossed my will, says Tresidder, 'an' I've engaged a more pushin' hind in your place. 'Tis a new fashion o' speech wi' Tresidder nowadays." "Ay, modern words be drivin' out the old forms.

"'Culture, 'Intellect, 'Refinement. These calves would march right along by the side of 'Pride, 'Vanity, 'Old Creeds, 'Bigotry, 'Selfishness. The last-named would be too numerous to count with the naked eye, and go pushin' aginst each other, rushin' right through meetin'-housen, tearin' and actin'. Why," says I, "the ground trembles under the tread of them calves.

'The Tyrone was pushin' an' pushin' in, an' our men was swearin' at thim, an' Crook was workin' away in front av us all, his sword-arm swingin' like a pump-handle an' his revolver spittin' like a cat. But the strange thing av ut was the quiet that lay upon. 'Twas like a fight in a drame except for thim that was dead. 'Whin I gave room to the Oirishman I was expinded an' forlorn in my inside.

That blue room will keep the best lookin' part of fall on all winter, and with a roarin' wood fire, it'll be capital, and no mistake; but this here is spring, jest spring eternal, an' that's best of all. Looks like it was about time the leaves was bustin' and things pushin' up. It wouldn't surprise me a mite to see a flock of swallers come sailin' right through these winders.

"Miss Victory," said she, "yer needn't push me into de brook." "Who's a pushin' of yer?" retorted Victoria, with equal acidity. "Yer was, yer own self." "I didn't so dar! Guess somethin' ails yer head too, de way yer go on pushin' indeed." "I scorns yer insinivations," said Clorinda, "and despises yer actuations!"

'Was that Solo, do you think? he asked. 'Dead cert' replied the Californian. 'Them's his playful ways. 'If you guessed it, why didn't you give a hint? 'Not knowin', can't say; but it's just pawsible I ain't pushin' myself forward as a target this spring.