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"Then Billy goes on whisperin' to Doc Peets an' layin' down somethin', like his heart's sot on it. At last Doc says: "'The best way, Billy, is for me to bring 'Doby over. With this Doc Peets gets onto his pony at the door an' goes curvin' back to 'Doby's. "'It's a boy, says Billy to the rest of us after Doc Peets lines out, `an' child an' mother both on velvet an' winnin' right along.
They was plumb elated at their winnin' up at Fort Lewis, and the gamblin' fever was on 'em strong, so right after supper they invited us to join 'em in a game of Mexican monte. I let Mike do the card-playin' for our side, because he's got a pass which is the despair of many a "tin-horn."
That was as near as I could map it for a minute or so while I was tryin' to throw up the picture of the man behind the voice. And, then it hits me Professor Booth McCallum! Oh, skincho, what a front! Why, when I was on the Sunday editor's door the professor used to show up reg'lar with some new scheme for winnin' space. Talk about your self-acting press agents! He had the bunch shoved to the curb.
It's a pot-hunter's maxim never to win by a big margin, but to nose out his man at the finish. This Mike did, winnin' by a yard; then he acted as if he was all in faked a faint, and I doused him with a sombrero of water from the creek. It was a spectacular race, at that, for at the finish the runners was bunched till a blanket would of covered 'em.
"Honk, honk!" says I. "Them's the kind of ideas that will get you run in for reckless thinkin'. You was winnin' all that when you did that sprint for goal your friend Dicky was tellin' about the other day. Now all you got to do is get up on your toes and make one or two touchdowns for old Corrugated." "I know," says he; "but I'm afraid that in this game I'm outclassed."
One kilted Scot passed us leading a young cow. He paid no heed to the jests and the noisy whistling of "To be a Farmer's Boy" that greeted him. "The milk 'ull be a' richt the morn's morn, ye ken," was his comfortable retort. And once a red-headed Yorkshireman broke the strain of the wait under shell-fire by calling out, "It's a good job we're winnin'!"
Donald always did make too much of a pet of that girl, and then all those pieces in the paper, they will spoil her, no girl of her age can stand it it is only puttin' notions in her head, and from what I can hear, there's too much of that now among women. I never had no time to be goin' round makin' speeches and winnin' debates, and neither has any other decent woman.
Crock's friendly attitude had suffered a change. She could put up with almost anything in her friends, but success! But when she met Pearl on the street that day, her manner was friendly. "Hello stranger," she said, "I hear you have been doing big things down there in the city, winnin' debates and makin' speeches.
His cousin, James Russell Lowell, once asked me regarding this, and my reply was that it reminded me of a character in the ``Biglow Papers'' who ``had a dre'dful winnin' way to make folks hate him. This was doubtless an overstatement, but it contained truth; for at times there was perhaps lacking in his handling of delicate questions something of the suaviter in modo.
I bet he won't think he's so winnin' of purty women no more! He's bad, that man, gamblin' an' shootin' craps an' workin' the banks. Served him right, yes, indeedy. But he'd shore hate to know a parson hearn him cussin' an' swearin' around. Hit don't bring a gambler any luck, bein' heard swearin', no." "Nor if any one else hears him; not if he thinks swearin' in hisn's heart!"
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