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If a feller calls you 'childie' or 'sweet lamb' or tells you you're the peacherino in the peach basket, don't you answer back, but just smile and wend your ways. If he goes so far as to put his arm around your waist or take a nip with his nails out of your arm or hip, why, then you can land him one on the napper if nobody's lookin'. But all the same, the chaps mostly ain't so black at heart.
Well, now, Plant has a drag with Chairman Gay; don't know what it is, but it's a good one, a peacherino. We know because we've trained some heavy guns on it ourselves, and it's stood the shock. All right. Now it's up to Chairman Gay to support his cousin. Then there's old Simeon Wright. Where would he get off at without Plant? He's going to do a little missionary work.
I gathered from their talk that Blythe and he had served together in the Rough Riders during the Spanish War. They were exchanging reminiscences and Jimmie Welch was listening open-mouthed to their conversation. "Say, ain't he a peacherino, Mr. Sedgwick," whispered my young hopeful. "Get onto those muscles of his. I'll bet he's got a kick like a mule in either mitt.
That was to say to a friend of his in the cage: "When you go out, cast your eye over Pete's girl. Somewhat of a peacherino." In the meantime Wayne went into Benson's office. There wasn't a flicker of alarm on the senior partner's face on seeing him. "Hullo, Pete!" he said, "I thought you'd be packing your bags." "I'm not packing anything," said Wayne.
Danny Dexter and Miss O'Gorman think old Sally Blossom is a peacherino." The man took the letter, which was written on Higgledy-Piggledy paper and in Josie's best handwriting. In it the cleverness of Miss Sally Blossom was lauded to the skies. Josie blushed through her paint as he read it aloud. "To think of my having the nerve to say all that about myself!" flashed through her mind.
All I ask is, if you find out whether that fellow 'Fox' grabs the peacherino from the Métropole or the one called 'Maria' you'll send me an invitation." The bargain was struck. Then the question was asked: "Any idea who wrote this diary the one written in a quick running hand? "Sounds like some fellow with a grouch against Kerensky and Lvov. I know enough Russian to make out that much "
I'm rattled enough already." "Well, is it true?" called out Mr. Striper. "No," Tembarom answered back, sitting down. "It couldn't be; that's what I told Palford. I shall wake up in a minute or two and find myself in a hospital with a peacherino of a trained nurse smoothing 'me piller. You can't fool ME with a pipe-dream like this. Palford's easier; he's not a New Yorker.
"A dinner, did you say? brought to you?" "Yeaup!" "Who brings it?" "A lady what comes ter see me an' Kitty sometimes; an' she's a peacherino, she is! She said she 'd bring it." "Do you know her name?" The words came a little breathlessly. "You bet! Why, she's our friend, I tell ye! Her name is Miss Daisy Carrolton; dat 's what 't is." The man relaxed in his chair.
"He's from Slumbertown, all right, all right!" shouted another. Duveen sent up another ball, high and swift. Burt hit straight over the first baseman, a line drive that struck the front of the right-field bleachers. "Peacherino!" howled a fan. Here the promise of Burt's speed was fulfilled. Run! He was fleet as a deer.
You'll see what happened in the next chapter. Oh boy, it's going to be a peacherino! One thing, I wished Tom Slade was there, because he was the best tracker we ever had. He could track an airplane that's what the fellows used to say. But he was over in France and the only other fellow in our troop who is a crackerjack at tracking, is Westy Martin.
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