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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Take some yourself," Sandy responded. "Are they after you, too?" McHale shook his head sadly. "Sonny," said he, "you're too young to be havin' them cute little visions of things bein' after you. I reckon maybe we're pullin' two ways on one rope. Also, we ain't gettin' no drier standin' here chewin' about it. Maybe you got a camp somewheres. S'pose you find the latchstring.
"Well, one thing is a mortal cinch, Curry; you'll never catch me psalm singing round a race track, and any time I want to preach, I'll hire a church! Put that in your pipe and smoke it!" "I ain't smokin', thankee, I'm chewin' mostly," remarked the old gentleman to Pitkin's vanishing coat tails. "Well, now, looks like I made him sort of angry.
You'll find your friends settin' in the front parlor on them welwet cushings readin' stories out o' books an' chewin' candy all day long. An' then they'll scurce know us, Billy an' them, an' not till I laugh an' show my teeth an' you get up an' salute will they suspicion us. An' you'll have on gold specs an' dress-uniform an' that'll make you look just like you could see same's other folks.
There was two commuters, one loaded down with a patent runner sled, the other chewin' a cigar impatient and consultin' his watch; a fat woman with a six-year-old who was teasin' to go see Santa Claus in the window again; a sporty-lookin' old boy with a red tie who was blinkin' googoos out of his puffy eyes; and then there was me, draped in my new near-English top coat and watchin' the swing doors expectant.
Big Medicine roared cheerfully, inspecting a battered plug of "chewin'" to see where was the most inviting corner in which to set his teeth. "Me'n' trouble has locked horns more'n once, 'n' I'd feel right lonesome if I thought our trails'd never cross agin.
"He didn't scare, though, worth a cent," complained the orphan, "an' he saw us hidin' behind it, an' put after us" in spite of his perturbation the boy grinned at the remembrance of the exciting chase "an' we lost the ghost somewheres 'way back here, an' when we got home, Dave's maw an' old Arabella Winters an' Elsie Cameron was all over to your place, chewin' away like wildcats, 'cause it was Arabella's weddin' dress we'd took for a ghost.
Milt Baker, like the other neighbors, was becoming familiar, if not friendly, with the substitute storekeeper and, leaning on the showcase. Milt said: "Leave me have a piece of Brown Mule, Cap'n Am'zon. I'm all out o' chewin'. Put it on the book and Mandy'll pay for it." "Avast there!" Cap'n Amazon returned.
"What is it, Albert?" he added. "Jot of chewin'," was the reply. The scaler took from the shelf a long plug of tobacco and cut off two inches. "Ain't hitting the van much, are you, Albert?" he commented, putting the man's name and the amount in a little book. Thorpe went out, after leaving his name for the time book, enlightened as to the method of obtaining supplies.
But when you git out of chewin'-tobacco, then where you goin' to git some more?" "To the store, I reckon." "Uh-huh. But where you goin' to git the money?" "He was givin' me all the chewin' I wanted," said Pete. "Uh-huh. Well, I ain't got no money for chewin'-tobacco. But I tell you what, Pete. Now, say I was to give you a dollar a week for for your wages.
"All I seem to remember is my marchin’ in the boolyvard along with a guy in baggy red pants, and my chewin’ the rag in a big, hot room full o’ soldiers; an’ Heinie an’ Joe they was shoutin’, ’Wow! Lemme at ’em. Veeve la France!’ Wha’ d’ye know about me? Ain’t I the mark from home?" "You didn’t realize that you were enlisting?"
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