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The sad eyes regarded him without interest, but Bard swung from his horse and advanced with outstretched hand. "I may be about here for a few days and we might as well get acquainted, eh? I'll promise to lay off the questions." "I'm Logan." "Glad to know you, Mr. Logan." "Same t'you. Don't happen to have no fine-cut about you?" "No. Sorry." "So'm I. Ran out an' now all I've got is plug.
Oh, my time past, did I not; wid a lump in my throat as big as my valise an' my heart goin' like a farrier's forge on a Saturday morning? 'Twas "Good day to ye, Miss Dinah," an' "Good day t'you, corp'ril," for a week or two, and divil a bit further could I get bekaze av the respect I had to that girl that I cud ha' broken betune finger an' thumb.
"The Pope in his own states has given in," said Sheffield, "so we may well do the same." "Don't talk of the Pope," said Vincent, "I'm sick of the Pope." "The Pope?" said Fusby, overhearing; "have you heard that his Holiness is coming to England?" "Oh, oh," cried Vincent, "come, I can't stand this. I must go; good night t'you, Carlton. Where's my gown?"
Again she swung her glass above her head and shrilled "My Supreme Moment drink to it if you're a friend of mine!" "Frien' of yours? Frien' of yours! Why, Doc, I'd die fer you. But that's all same Ogollalah Sioux 'bout your S'preme Moment! Many of 'em, Doc, many of 'em, and here's t'you!" They drained their glasses together. "Always liked you, Doc.
She askt me would I druther hav her buy it for me, or have the money and pick it out m'self, and I spoke up right quick and says, 'Oh, cousin Bessie, I wouldn't think of givin' ya all that trouble. I'd take the money ef it's all the same t'you, and she jest smiled and said all right, she expected I knew what I wanted better'n she did.
No, it is not I who am saying good-bye. It is in fact somebody else, possibly myself. with a crazy old fellow who somehow or other has got inside B.'s tunic and is gesticulating and crying out and laughing; with a frank-eyed boy who claps me on the back and says: "Good-bye and good luck t'you" "Goo-bye, boy!"
"Let's have 'luminashon!" he cried; and climbing with muddy boots upon the costly chairs, scraping with his feet the polished table, attempted to fix the wax in the silver sconces, with which the antiquarian tastes of Mr. Francis Wade had adorned the room. "You'll break the table, sir," said the servant. "Damn the table!" said Rex. "Buy 'nother table. What's table t'you?"
The Great American Pumess, looking much more like a very innocent, soft, and demurely playful kitten, accepted this ingenuous tribute to her charms with a smile. "Good-morning," she said. "Is Mr. Surtaine in?" "Same t'you," responded the courteous Mr. Currier. "Sure he is. Walk this way, maddim!" They found the editor at his desk.
Oh, my time past, did I not; wid a lump in my throat as big as my valise an' my heart goin' like a farrier's forge on a Saturday morning? 'Twas 'Good day to ye, Miss Dinah, an' 'Good day t'you, corp'ril, for a week or two, and divil a bit further could I get bekaze av the respect I had to that girl that I cud ha' broken betune finger an' thumb."
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