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Updated: May 4, 2025
Bidwell comes to me an' sez, sez he, 'Jim, I wants you to keep tab on the Monte Carlo. I'm goin'. "'Where's Barlow? sez I. 'Gone, sez he, 'an' I'm a-followin' with a load of whisky. An' with that, never waitin' for me to decline, he makes a run for his boat an' away he goes, polin' up river like mad. So here I be, an' these is the first drinks I've passed out in three days."
'I've bin a-followin' on you all the way, brother, said Sinfi, as we moved out of the cemetery, 'for your looks skeared me a bit. Let's go away from this place. 'But whither, Sinfi? I have no friend but you; I have no home. 'No home, brother? It's the Romanies, brother, as 'ain't got no home 'cept the sky an' the wind.
A hundred thousan' of good running meat in the herd, an' ten thousan' wolves an' cats a-followin' an' livin' off the stragglers an' the leavin's. We leave the leavin's. The herd's movin' to the east, an' we'll be followin' 'em any day now. We eat our dogs, an' what we don't eat we smoke 'n cure for the spring before the salmon-run gets its sting in.
She is left, however, most of the time, to her own devices, and often finds her way also to the cemetery to "wisit dat dear little lamb, Hilda," murmuring as she creeps slowly with her cane, "We'se all a-followin' her now, bress de Lord." Jinny's stories of what she saw and of her experiences abroad have become so marvellous that they might be true of some other planet, but not of ours.
I could dig me a few greens, you know, in spring, and then 't would come strawberry-time, and other berries a-followin' on. I was always decent to go to meetin' till within the last six months, an' then I went in bad weather, when folks wouldn't notice; but 't was a rainy summer, an' I managed to get considerable preachin' after all. My clothes looked proper enough when 't was a wet Sabbath.
You an' I could swar, of course, thet the damned cusses hed changed the stakes on us more 'n onct, an' thar 's no doubt in our two minds but what they 're a-followin' out our ore-lead right now, afore we kin git down ter it. Hell! of course they are they got the fust start, an' the men, an' the money back of 'em.
"It's a race." "You'll ketch 'em!" "Whip up!" "She's a goer, she is!" said the ostler boy. "Strike me giddy!" cried Old Tootles. "Here! I'm a-goin' to begin in a minute. Here's another comin'. If all the cabs in Hampstead ain't gone mad this morning!" "It's a fieldmale this time," said the ostler boy. "She's a-followin' him," said Old Tootles. "Usually the other way about."
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