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Updated: May 29, 2025
By cosh, dem bodadoes iss sell high." It flashed into Hazel's mind that here was a Heaven-sent opportunity to reach the cabin without facing that hundred miles in the company of chance-hired strangers. But she did not broach the subject at once. Instead, she asked eagerly of Bill. Lauer told her that Bill had tarried a few days at the cabin, and then struck out alone for the mines.
To call him Dutchy and in the same breath to ask for pie that, indeed, went far beyond the limits of decency. "Py cosh, you not ged any pie, Weary Davidson. Py cosh, I learns you not to call names py sober peoples. You not get no grub whiles you iss too drunk to be decend mit folks." "Hey? Yuh won't feed a man when he's hungry? Yuh darn Dutch " Weary went into details in a way that was surprising.
"Nodwar k'chee Toquis, I see little 'Fraid One'" he said, unconsciously dropping into his own dialect, which is the softest speech in the world, so soft that wild things are not disturbed when they hear it, thinking it only a louder sough of the pines or a softer tunking of ripples on the rocks. "O bah cosh, see! He wash-um face in yo lil cup."
In his left pocket there was a cosh and in his right a revolver. Stuck into his waistband was a knife. Before setting out, in the privacy of his den, he carried out a few exercises. He made a pass at the wall with his sword-stick, drew his revolver, flexed his muscles and then taking his identity papers he crossed the garden... steadily... unhurriedly... a l'Anglais.
He turned and went heavily back to the greasy range with the depleted coffee pot, lifted the lid of a kettle and looked in upon the contents with a purely mechanical glance; gave a perfunctory prod or two with a long-handled fork, and came back to stand uneasily behind Weary. "If you poys are goin' to shtand fer dot," he began querulously, "Py cosh I von't!
"I vork und vork mine head off keeping you fellers filled oop tree times a day alreatty; I not vork und vork to feed you effery hour, py cosh. You go mitout till supper iss reaty for you yet." Big Medicine, his frog-like eyes standing out from his sun-reddened face, stared agape. "Well, by cripes!"
"Our trenches," proclaimed Private Tosh with forced calm, "were never raided by no Brandyburrrgerrs! Was they, Jimmie?" Mr. Cosh corroborated, with three adjectives which Mr. Tosh had not thought of. Spike Johnson merely smiled, with the easy assurance of a man who has the ace up his sleeve. "Oh yes, they was!" he reiterated. "They werre not!" shouted half a dozen voices.
There's something stirring in the West, away in the parts that no White man has ever travelled. From what I learn there's a bigger brain than an Indian's behind it." "The French?" I asked. "Maybe, but maybe not. What's to hinder a blackguard like Cosh, with ten times Cosh's mind, from getting into the Indian councils, and turning the whole West loose on the Tidewater?? "Have you any proof?"
I got soldier's rights mit fightin'. Und py cosh, I use him too if dem fellers coom by us mit der dry farms alreatty!" "Well, you son-of-a-gun!" Andy smote him elatedly upon a fat shoulder. "What do you know about old Patsy for a dead game sport? By gracious, that makes another three hundred and twenty to the good.
Well, it's not for a modest man to be sounding his own trumpet. Maybe it's because I'm a gentleman, and there's that in good blood which awes the commonalty. Maybe it's because I've no fish of my own to fry. I do not rob for greed, like Calvert and Williams, or kill for lust, like the departed Cosh. To me it's a game, which I play by honest rules.
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