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Updated: June 13, 2025
A good broom-brush is the world's greatest civilizer. Are you looking seedy or dusty? why, this here brush will instantly make you a respectable citizen. Take my word for it, friend, never go into any strange house without stoppin' and brushin' off. It's money in your purse! You can get along without dinner sometimes, or even without a shirt, but without a brush never!
I was a-standin' in the yard, brushin' my master's coat a bottle-green wi' silver buttons, each button 'avin' what they calls a monneygram stamped onto it. 'Ha, me man! says the sleepy gent, steppin' up to me, 'a fine coat doocid fashionable cut, curse me! your master's? 'Yes, sir, says I, brushin' away.
Sez I, "You egrejis ass," gittin up & brushin the dust from my eyes, "I'll sign your papers with this bunch of bones, if you don't be a little more keerful how you make my bread basket a depot in the futur. How do you like that air perfumery?" sez I, shuving my fist under his nose. "Them's the kind of papers I'll give you! Them's the papers YOU want!"
He's between twenty-five and thirty, for a guess; and, say, whatever he might have been once, he's a wreck now, long, thin face, with the cheekbones almost stickin' through, slumped in shoulders, bony hands, and a three months' crop of mud colored hair stringin' damp over his ears and brushin' his coat collar.
Tuxedo, white tie, and neat trimmed siders in front of his ears. One of these quiet spoken, sleuthy movin' gents he is, a reg'lar stage valet. But he manages to give me the once-over real thorough as he's towin' me in. "This way, sir," says he, brushin' back the draperies and shuntin' me in among the leather chairs and Oriental rugs.
I expect that's why it don't sound more'n half nutty, too, delivered that way. For with Vee's chin on my shoulder, and some of that silky straw-colored hair brushin' my face, and a slim, smooth arm hooked chummy through one of mine well, say; she could make a tabulated bank statement listen like one of Grantland Rice's baseball lyrics. Do I fall for her proposition? It's almost a jump.
Three minutes later we were stopped and boarded by Scouts up our backs, down our necks, and in our boots! The last I heard from your Mr. Leggatt as he went under, brushin' 'em off his cap, was thanking Heaven he'd covered up the new paint-work with mats. An 'eroic soul! 'Not a scratch on her body, said Leggatt, pouring out the coffee-grounds. 'And Jules? said I.
But all of a sudden she bust out a-laughin' with the tears standin' in her big eyes and runnin' down her cheeks. "There," sez I, "you see I'm right, don't you?" "Oh you dear, delicious Samantha!" sez she, and she throwed her arms round me and kissed me. I kissed her back and then I went on brushin' my hair for the night. I hadn't nothin' on but my skirts and dressin' sack, but I didn't mind her.
Mitch didn't say nothin'. He just set quiet, every now and then brushin' a tear out of his eye. When our pas had walked away, Mitch says: "Now you see the whole thing, Skeet. You've lost Tom as much as I have; but I've lost more'n you. I've lost Zueline. Both in the same summer. I don't know what I'm goin' to do. I want to go home." And then Mitch said: "I'm mad at my pa.
I'd make you feel kinder pleasant, I know, and you'd jist bend your face over to it, and take it as kindly as a gall does a whisper, when your lips keep jist a brushin' of the cheek while you are a talkin'. I wouldn't go to shock you by a doin' of it coarse; you are too quick, and too knowin' for that.
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