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"Black Cloud accompanies himse'f to this contest with a pure white pony which has eyes red as roobies a kind o' albino pony an' he gives it forth that this milk-coloured bronco is his 'big medicine' or familiar sperit. The Lance observes that the little red-eyed hoss is mighty impressive to the savages, be they Creeks or Osages.
Here I happened upon my only Cape Cod cowbird, a full-grown youngster, who was being ministered unto in the most devoted manner by a red-eyed vireo, such a sight as always fills me with mingled amusement, astonishment, admiration, and disgust. That any bird should be so befooled and imposed upon!
Midnight found him in a shack buried in snow and reached only by a circuitous tunnel, a shack where men no longer Americans, but black-smeared, red-eyed, doddering, stumbling human machines came and went, their frost-caked Mackinaws steaming as they clustered about the red-hot stove, their faces smudged with engine grease to form a coating against the stinging blast of the ice-laden wind, their cheeks raw and bleeding, their mouths swollen orifices which parted only for mumblings; vikings of another age, the fighters of the ice gangs, of which Houston had become a part.
Now it was a bloated, wild-eyed man, dirty and forlorn beyond description, shambling into sight, but disappearing in a moment or two in one of the dram-shops, whose name was legion, and now it was a woman with the angel all gone out of her face, barefooted, blotched, coarse, red-eyed, bruised and awfully disfigured by her vicious, drunken life. Her steps too made haste to the dram-shop.
He wanted to assail everybody. "What's the matter here?" he demanded, red-eyed. "Isn't somebody going to tell me? Have I got to stop here all night? Who on earth is this?" He glared at Miss Trimble. "What's she doing with that pistol?" He stamped incautiously with his bad foot, and emitted a dry howl of anguish. "She is a detective, Peter," said Mrs. Pett timidly. "A detective? Why?
Instead of paying his bills with the amount, he gambled it away in a back room of a new café on Market Street with Toby, the red-eyed waiter from the Imperial, and a certain German "professor," a billiard marker, who wore a waistcoat figured with little designs of the Eiffel Tower, and who was a third owner in a trotting mare named Tomato Ketchup.
As she moved away from him he stood still, red-eyed and trembling with rage. "An' what's more, you old scalawag," said the policeman, "I'm going to run you in. Maybe you never heard tell of perjury, but it's worse than pickin' pockets, let me tell you." His heavy hand dropped to Weeks' shoulder, but he was too slow.
He didn't even turn to look at us as we came in and closed the door. "Come in, gentlemen, come in," says he, not moving. "I kind of thought you'd be along, about this time." "Looking for us, were you?" I asked. "Yes," said he. "Sit down." We did; Farwell looking pretty pale and red-eyed, and swallowing a good deal. There was a long, long silence. We just sat and watched Gorgett.
It was the last day of February green grass was still far away and the cattle, hungry, red-eyed and clamorous, were coming home! "When time lets slip one little perfect day, O take it for it may not come again."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, no," replied the stranger; "keep me from the poets." "There is one of the other species," replied the gentleman, "the thin, red-eyed fellow, who grinds his teeth.
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