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"Wha-a-a-at?" says I. "Oh, oh, I guess it ain't as bad as that." "Pardon," says Leon, "but I discover them steef, les pieds dans le ciel. Thus!" And he illustrates by holdin' both hands above his head. "Perhaps it would be best to investigate," suggests Auntie. "I have no doubt Leon is right.
"Then step lively," says I, "before they get glued up for good. Down this way. Here you are, in there among the palms! See, there's Uncle Jerry rubberin' around!" "Oh, yes!" squeals Millie, clappin' her hands. "Dear old Uncle Jerry! But but, Torchy, where is er his nephew?" "Eh?" says I. "Why, there on the bench, doin' the yawn act!" "Wha-a-a-at!" gasps Millie, steppin' in for a closer look.
"At any rate, we seem to be in no danger from a mutinous crew. Our little enterprise merely amuses them." "Pooh!" says Auntie. "Ignorant sailors! What do they know about " But just then there booms in through the portholes this hearty hail from outside: "Ahoy the Agnes! Who's aboard there? Wha-a-a-at! Mr. Ellins, of New York. Well, well! Hey, you! Fend off there. I'm coming in."
You can suppress the green-goods and gold-brick games, but folks will still go to shoveling sand if you mention pirates to 'em. What I want is to see 'em at it once." The harder you jolt Old Hickory, though, the steadier he gets. "Huh!" says he, smilin' sarcastic. "An ambition such as yours ought to be gratified. Take a good look at us, Megrue." "Wha-a-a-at!" gasps Barney, starin' at him.
How would the president suit you?" "If I might see him, I'd like it," says he. "Wha-a-a-at!" says I. Honest, the nerve that's wasted on some folks is a shame. I had to sit up and give him the Old Sleuth stare at that.
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