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Updated: June 10, 2025


An' as fer fixin' their clothes, an' bathing 'em, why, it 'ud set me feelin' that fulish you wouldn't know me from a patient in a bug-house. It makes me real mad, folks is allus astin' me to get busy doin' things. I'm that sick, the sight of a ha'f-washened kid 'ud turn my stummick to bile, an' set me cacklin' like a hen with a brood o' ducklings she can't no ways account fer.

Dan did not seem to see her hand any more than he saw her fresh shirt-waist and the hat she had taken so much pains to retrim. After a casual nod he stood looking at the floor and rubbing the toe of his heavy boot against his blow-pipe. "Sure," he said slowly, "but this is no fit place for a girl, Mrs. Snawdor." Mrs. Snawdor bristled immediately. "I ain't astin' yer advice, Dan Lewis.

"Didn't you ever hear of Captain Nichol?" "Reckon not. Mout have. I've nussed mo' cap'ins than I kin reckerlect." "Are you a hospital nurse?" "Sorter 'spect I am. That's what I does, anyhow. Have you anything agin it? Don't yer come 'ferin' round with me less yer a doctor, astin' no end o' questions. Air you a new doctor?"

That's what about it." "Really!" said I. "A very modest request, very modestly put. Is it permissible to ask why you want those things, and in what way you purpose to use them?" "Oh yes, cert'nly," was the reply. "There's no objections to you astin' as many questions as you bloomin' well likes. We wants 'em to purtect ourselves again' that snarlin', savage leopard o' yours.

A man who lived near me a few years ago could often be heard, on Sundays and on summer evenings, chiding his little son for that fault. "Don't you keep on astin' so many questions," was his formula, which I must have heard dozens of times.

I was astin' of her in the mornin' what her trouble was, for that trouble she had on her mind was plain to see, and she come over something, half-way like, about losin' of a child; but whether it were dead, or strayed, or stolen, or what, I couldn't tell; and no more, I believe, she wanted me to." Here another woman spoke.

They was both settin' out in the sun on that log right by the trail as you go in to the cabin and they'd washed their hair and had it all down their backs dryin' it. And the girl was cleanin' the old maid's finger nails for her! I come purty near astin' the old maid if she had to have somebody wash her face for her too.

Ralph would have declined such a sudden meeting, but before he could think of any excuse, a portly, fine looking man, with flowing chin beard and dark, piercing eyes, stopped as he was sauntering by. "What is it, Sam?" he demanded, at the same time scanning Ralph casually. "Dish yer white boy, he astin' where 'bout he kin find yo', suh. I up an' tol' him, when bless de land! yere yo' is."

Sandy's eyes lit, and in an unguarded moment he admitted that the thought had occurred to him. Birdie caught him up at once. "I tho't you was just astin' me these questions to see if I was right for gettin' married?" she protested innocently. "That's so course," he said hastily. Then he wriggled out of it. "But how'd I be able to say you was right if I hadn't tho't on things some myself?" "Ah!

Guess I'm jest astin' you to rub the corners off'n them circumstances so they'll run smooth." Tresler smiled at the manner of the old man's advice, which was plain enough this time. "I see. Well, so long." He hurried out and Joe watched him go. Then the little man rose from his seat and went out to Teddy Jinks's kitchen on the pretense of yarning.

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