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Updated: June 14, 2025
Natica acted as if she were entertaining in earnest, and for the time being I actually think she felt that she was. She got the Hartopp to sing her "Jo-Jo" song, and the Hartopp actually did it as if she enjoyed it. Afterward Natica induced "Boiler-plate" to tell about the time he mixed it up with Fitzsimmons for ten rounds.
For I forgot all about the stop-watch now and then, while I learned the truth of the Hartopp's caution that "Boiler-plate" grew rough after he'd been drinking a bit. I knew that Jack had been a pretty fair boxer at the university, but, after I had called time for the first round, the thing was to all intents and purposes a genuine fight, and he was all in several times over.
He was going to forge and shrink a wrought-iron collar on the neck of the piston-rod where it joined the cross-head, and from the collar he would bolt a Y-shaped piece of iron whose lower arms should be bolted into the cross-head. If anything more were needed, they could use up the last of the boiler-plate. So the forges were lit again, and men burned their bodies, but hardly felt the pain.
Great big men like you, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves." Long Bob Brothers about six-foot-four the longest and most innocent there, shrunk down by the wall and got his inquiring face out of the light. The Pretty Girl fluttered on for a few moments longer, greatly excited, and then stepped back, seemingly much upset, and was taken under the wing of the woman with the boiler-plate mouth.
He was going to forge and shrink a wrought-iron collar on the neck of the piston-rod where it joined the cross-head, and from the collar he would bolt a Y-shaped piece of iron whose lower arms should be bolted into the cross-head. If anything more were needed, they could use up the last of the boiler-plate. So the forges were lit again, and men burned their bodies, but hardly felt the pain.
The "Boiler-plate" looked very foolish in an old Yale rowing shirt, with the "Y" stretched taut across his ponderous chest. He had a pair of arms like a blacksmith. Jack Drayton had taken off his coat and was in his shirt sleeves. He never looked at Natica, nor at the Hartopp; but he tossed me a stopwatch and told me to keep time. "We'll box five rounds, Percy," he said. Natica clapped her hands.
And when I looked at Ham, I saw that no help was needed, for the old man was coming out of his twenty-five-years' trance over Percy. He didn't say a word for a few minutes, just kept boring into the young man with his eyes, and though Percy had a cheek like brass, Ham's stare went through it as easy as a two-inch bit goes into boiler-plate.
Once he turned to Jack with a chuckle and said: "This is a jossy bit of luck, ain't it, each of us out with the other man's better?" Natica laughed shamelessly. "You've such a keen appreciation of the ridiculous, Mr. Hartopp," she said. And when "Boiler-plate" tried to deny the insinuation, his wife nudged him on the arm and whispered: "Shut up, Jim."
Infantry captured artillery by frontal attacks delivered in line of quarter columns, and mounted infantry skirmished up to the wheels of an armored train which carried nothing more deadly than a twenty-five pounder Armstrong, two Nordenfeldts, and a few score volunteers all cased in three-eighths-inch boiler-plate. Yet it was a very lifelike camp.
I'll just be cofferdamned if I propose to remain at the head of a church whose educators, preachers and editors are forever hacking away at each other's goozle with a hand-ax and slinging slime like a lot of colored courtesans. Our little boiler-plate contemporary, the Austin Statesman, prints a court docket containing 69 divorce cases side by side with 12 church notices.
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