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Them's my business; and a nice easy trade it is. Lots of change and wariety. No one to wallop yer. Live like a jintleman." He waved his hand at his last words with a gesture expressive of large and easy circumstances. Frank glanced at his bare feet and generally dishevelled appearance. "I don't want to live like a jintleman," he said; "I want to work honest, and git wage."
"Jim, you'll have to track them lost hosses. Two still missin' an' one of them's mine," called Anson as Wilson paced to the end of his beat. The girl heard Anson, for she put her head out of the spruce shelter and called: "Riggs said he'd hid two of the horses. They must be close. He came that way." "Howdy, kid! Thet's good news," replied Anson. His spirits were rising.
"Them's the guns up the line, me lad, and you'll get enough of 'em before you gets back to Blighty." My knees seemed to wilt, and I squeaked out a weak "Oh!" Then we started our march up to the line in ten kilo treks. After the first day's march we arrived at our rest billets.
Miss Pett set the decanter and the materials for toddy on the table at her nephew's side, and took a covered plate from the cupboard in the corner. "Them's potted meat sandwiches," she said. "Very toothsome you'll find 'em I didn't prepare much, for I knew you'd get your dinner on the train. Yes, well, there is something afoot they are searching. Not for something, though, but for somebody.
My trade's a mason; Leeds is where I come from; but when they're short of work, if you've got two grey hairs and another chap's got only one, you gets the sack, and has to live as best yer can. "God knows I don't want this beastly life. But it's a good thing I've got it to turn to. Most on 'em has nowt but their trades, and them's the ones as has to starve.
Well, that's the maid that's mistress of Tralee belongin' as much to the Gardin of Eden as to this place here. There's none of them here that belongs. Every wan of them's been caught away from where he ought to be into this zoolyogical gardin."
As Rachel had no wish to go or to stay, Evelyn took her by the wrist and drew her out of the hall and up the stairs. As they went upstairs two steps at a time, Evelyn, who still kept hold of Rachel's hand, ejaculated broken sentences about not caring a hang what people said. "Why should one, if one knows one's right? And let 'em all go to blazes! Them's my opinions!"
Flannagan's, I said out loud 'twas most too cool on the boat up the river and John Edward he asked if the monkeys wa'n't cute!" "Peggy, Peggy, my child!" said Miss Margery. "Don't you know it's sinful to tell lies?" "Yessum lies that hurt folks. Them's little white lies. They don't do no harm." "There aren't any white lies, Peggy. They are all black. It is wrong, it is sinful, to tell a falsehood.
"Maybe a hoe, Miss Daisy; or whiles a weeding fork." "Have you got one here." "No, Miss Daisy. Was it a fork you were wanting?" "Yes, I want one, Logan." "And will you be wanting it now?" "Yes, I want it now, if you please." "Bill, you go home and get Miss Daisy one o' them small hand forks out o' that new lot them's slenderer." "And Logan, I want another thing.
"You're on," answered the chief engineer. "Them's lumberjack hours, man. From seven till six means work an' only fools an' hosses keeps them hours." The head sawyer leaned across the table and pounded with the handle of his knife until he had the attention of all present. "I'm a-goin' to tell you young fellers somethin'," he announced.
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