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You 're not at the end of your run, I dare say. Only, my good Roy, let me tell you, in life you mustn't wait for the prize of the race till you touch the goal if you prefer metaphor. You generally come forward about every seven years or so. Add on another seven, and women'll begin to think. You can't beat Time, mon Roy.
"'Pears like a long spell to wait, neighbor." "I know it, man; but it'll seem a thunderin' sight longer after you begin to look fer 'em." "I reckon you're right. Say four weeks from to-day, then. Like enough you'll be goin' in." "Yes, we'll hitch up and meet 'em at the train, you and me. The women'll have things kind o' snug ag'in' we git home. Four weeks'll soon slide along, man."
I wanted to be sick." Captain Bingo had also known the sensation of nausea during a similar experience. "But women'll stand anything," he said, "particularly if they've been told it's chic. My own part, I can stand any amount of dead men healthy dead men, don't you know?
They're bein' purified. It kind o' seasons 'em so they kin stan' the heat o' a family quarrel. When Injuns have had the grease sweat out of 'em, they know suthin' has happened. The women'll talk fer years 'bout the weddin' sweat." Now and then, as he talked, Solomon arose to put more wood on the fire and keep "the jerk sizzling."
If you say you're against 'em, Judge, it's most likely you're a plumb goner because the women'll vote against you, and all the men that's for it'll vote against you, and all them that dassn't do anything without askin' permission from their wives'll hop you, and others won't count. So go easy, Judge! Go easy! Keep on the fence as if you were a rooster that had got frozen on the top rail.
You 're not at the end of your run, I dare say. Only, my good Roy, let me tell you, in life you mustn't wait for the prize of the race till you touch the goal if you prefer metaphor. You generally come forward about every seven years or so. Add on another seven, and women'll begin to think. You can't beat Time, mon Roy.
Some women'll stay in a man's memory if they once walked down a street, but most of 'em you can live with a month on end, an' next commission you'd be put to it to certify whether they talked in their sleep or not, as one might say." Another very delicate expedient is to suggest a character through a careful presentation of his habitual environment.
And my man, Dominique, I've made him all right in my will, but keep your eye on him; he's a good sort for a foreigner, and no chicken, but sooner or later, the women'll get hold of him. That's all I had to say. Send Chris to me." Herr Paul stood by the bedside speechless. Suddenly he blurted out. "Ah! my dear! Courage! We are all mortal. You will get well!"
"When they came in," he reasoned, "the back of that thing hid her. She'd lain down to rest, and stop that sobbing before she came back to me. Fell asleep women'll do that, happy or wretched, before they know where they are. They reached the safe, and that arm at the end would hide even her hair.
He took out his handkerchief, wiped the dust from his face as best he could, shook his coat, dusted his shoulders with a grain sack, and was starting away, when Mr. Dingman, a rather feeble elderly man, came up. "Come, Will, supper's all ready. Go in and eat." "I guess I'll go home to supper." "Oh, no, that won't do. The women'll be expecting yeh to stay."
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