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I've laughed at the jokes of that swing mule myse'f; an' even Jerry, the off wheeler, who's a cynic that a-way, couldn't repress a smile. Shore! anamiles talks all the time; it's only that we-all hoomans ain't eddicated to onderstand. "Speakin' of beasts talkin', let me impart to you of what passes before my eyes over on the Caliente.
Gwendolyn ate her slice daintily, using a fork. Jane also ate a slice holding it in her fingers. "There's ways of managin' a fairly jolly afternoon," she said from the depths of the arm-chair. "You're speakin' of er ?" asked Thomas, picking up cake crumbs with a damp finger-tip. "Uh-huh." "A certain party would have to go along," he reminded. "Of course. But a ride's better'n nothin'."
It tante much different from stump oratory in America arter all, or speakin' off a whiskey barrel, is it? It's a sort of divil me-kear-kind o' audience; independent critters, that look at a feller full in the face, as sarcy as the divil; as much as to say, 'Talk away, my old 'coon, you won't alter me, I can tell you, it's all Bunkum.
I have to do it in my own way, for I ain't used to public speakin'. You all know who I am. My father was a church-member, an' so was mother. Father done day's work, fur a dollar'n a quarter a day. How much firewood an' clothes an' food d'ye suppose that money could pay for?
Ten minutes later the telephone bell rang. "Hello! Here is your Boston call," announced Central. "All right! all right! Is this Saunders, Griffin and Company? ... Hey? ... Is Mr. Doane there?... What? I want to know! Is that you, John? ... This is Dott, speakin'.... Yes, Dan Dott.... No, no, of Trumet, not Scarford.... Yes.... YES.... Here! you let me do the talkin'; you listen."
"'You're lyin', says I, 'an' you know you're lyin'. You allers told me you had three. "'I was speakin' of those by my first wife, says he. 'My other wives all left one apiece. Ain't I never told you about 'em? I thought I had, he went on, speakin' quick, 'but if I haven't, it 's because your beauty has made me forget all the pain an' sorrer of the past.
Anyone could see that by the likeness. You're the spit of each other, if I might make so bold. And I'm sure," said the orator, "speakin' on be'alf of all present, meself included, we feel honoured by the presence in our umble midst of the mother of the famous 'orseman Chukkers Childers." In the silence the speaker resumed his seat. The lady addressed was too busy to reply.
"Much of a squeak, Raffles?" "Touch and go, sir. He'll never be nearer pegging out than he was this afternoon; for he scraped the gates of his family buryin'-place, in a manner of speakin. It went clean through his hat rim and crown." "Did he know his luck?" "Nobody better." "He looked more than average queer as we trotted home. I thought he was digesting your little bill, Raffles."
"Bein' in the advance trench, we've got on neighbourly terms like, with the Dutchies, and Tom Kelly, wot 'as just bin speakin', 'eard Bob Ellis promisin' this bloke as 'ow if 'e'd on'y 'urry up an' git killed soon enough, Bob would 'ave 'is farm and 'is frow when 'e come marchin' along to Pretoria. 'Oppin' mad the Dopper was at that, an' the names 'e called pore Bob was something disgraceful.
Would 'ave the doctor fix up a German prisoner wot was bleedin' to death. Said 'e wasn't in no particular 'urry, speakin' for 'isself. An' 'im a-bleedin' to death, too. As fine a gentleman as ever stepped." The other nodded, warming, sailor-like, to the hero-worship of an officer. "That's right, Sister. 'E give 'is life for one of them Germans, you might say."