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He has his hat off and is beggin' her pardon in his best society way too; although he must have seen at a glance what she was, one of these brassy-eyed parties with a hand-decorated complexion and a hangover breath. "Ah, chop the soft stuff!" says she, brushin' the mud off her slit skirt vigorous. "And next time lamp who you're buttin' into, you pie-faced, turkey-shanked "
A good name for him Don John Quick-sote running around buttin' into things he can't straighten out." "He could do all that and yet be the best kind of a man. And the bosun why, before I ever heard the name of this ship, I'd heard of her bosun. He's a notorious brute." "He's the kind of a brute I want to have around. He will do what I order him." "Did you order him to bring on this fight?"
The less cultured folk, who, perhaps, had more humor than respect for the Irishman, found his brand tripped much more easily off the tongue by replacing the Z with an S, and invariably using the plural. "Say, Jim," the rancher went on, buoyed with his own enthusiasm, "it's been a great round-up. Seventy-five per cent. Bully! I'll open out my scheme. Listen. Ther's Donagh's land buttin' on us.
I'll have no skipper buttin' in on me, tellin' me how to run me engines an' askin' me why in this an' that I don't go aisy on the coal. Faith, I've had thim do it the wanst an' the wanst only. Begorra, I'd have brained thim wit' a monkey wrench if they tried it a second time."
I've jest come buttin' into Tucson an' it's easy money I'm the tenderest an' most ontaught party that ever wears store-moccasins. What I misses knowin' would make as husky a library, if it's printed down in books, as ever lines up on shelves. Also, I'm freighted to the limit with the tenderfoot's usual outfit of misinformation.
The intruder stopped, his hand still on the handle, aware that there were others in the room. "Who is it?" Phyllis breathed, stricken almost dumb with terror. "It's Slim. Hope I ain't buttin' in, Phyllie." Unconsciously he had given her the cue she needed. "Well, you are." She laughed nervously, as might a lover caught unexpectedly. "It's it's Phil," she pretended to pretend. "Oh, it's Phil."
"I heerd Old G. A. R. say, I did, to a man what comes ter talk politics wid him, that beggin' th' rich people to help yer was jus' like buttin' yer head agin a brick wall, so what good's it goin' ter do if he does go?" The Angel nodded amiably, and slipped her hand in Joey's that she might the better keep up.
"Well, for one thing, he's always buttin' in," volunteered a square-built military looking man standing near. "If he'd stick to his gospel it wouldn't be so bad, but he's always pokin' his nose into everything."
"No, I ain't a believer in that enthoosiastic sense that fights its way to the mourner's bench an' manifests itse'f with groans that daunts hoot-owls into silence. Thar don't appear many preachers out West in my day. Now an' then one of these yere divines, who's got strayed or drifted from his proper range, comes buttin' his way into Wolfville an' puts us up a sermon, or a talkee-talkee.
"Now you-all has most likely begun to marvel where them labor struggles comes buttin' in. We're within ropin' distance now. It's not made cl'ar, but, as I remarks prior, I allers felt like Huggins is the bug onder the chip when them printers gets hostile that time an' leaves the agency. Huggins ain't feeble enough mental to believe for a moment Boggs writes that piece.
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