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"Say, please," interposed Ripton, who was not blind to doubtful aspects. Farmer Blaize threw up his chin, and grinned grimly. "Please to you, sir? Why, my chap, you looks as if ye didn't much mind what come t'yer nose, I reckon. You looks an old poacher, you do. Tall ye what 'tis'!" He changed his banter to business, "That bird's mine!
"Say, please," interposed Ripton, who was not blind to doubtful aspects. Farmer Blaize threw up his chin, and grinned grimly. "Please to you, sir? Why, my chap, you looks as if ye didn't much mind what come t'yer nose, I reckon. You looks an old poacher, you do. Tall ye what 'tis'!" He changed his banter to business, "That bird's mine!
Count leant forward, saying impressively to me, "Y'r a smart youngster, an' I've kinder took t'yer; but don't ye look ahead an' get gallied, 'r I'll knock ye stiff wi' th' tiller; y'hear me? N' don't ye dare to make thet sheet fast, 'r ye'll die so sudden y' won't know whar y'r hurted."
They arrived late, and the dance was already in full swing. As they stabled and fed the team, they could hear the high notes of the fiddles and the singsong chant of the caller. "Alemane left. Right han' t'yer pardner, an' gran' right and left. Ev-v-rybody swing." The ranch house was a large one, the most pretentious in the valley.
Already the rooms seemed to be pretty well filled, as Helen noticed when they entered. Three sets were on the floor for a quadrille and the house shook with the energy of the dancers. On benches against the walls were seated the spectators, and on one of them stood Texas calling the dance. "Alemane left. Right hand t'yer pardner and grand right and left. Ev-v-rybody swing," chanted the caller.
The shortest of the four flabby men, an oily sort of shabby gentleman, who was blind of an eye, and had very disordered red hair, and a bruise on the end of a very red nose, which looked like a birch knot growing upon a redder face, now came jauntily forward, and having doffed a much damaged hat, that sat on the side of his head with a challenging air, and approaching the major, who had arranged his uniform to the best advantage, spoke as follows: "Long life t'yer 'onor, for me name's Dinnis Finnigan, born on the banks of Lough Neagh, near Kerry; but for all that, as I says to myself, Dinnis yer jist as good an American as iver drew first breath on the soil.
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