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But it almost seems as if peace had spread her wings and flowed away from this planet, such cuttin's up and actin's are on every side, wars and rumors of wars, armies and navies crashin' up aginst each other, nations risin' up aginst nation, brothers' hands lifted up aginst brothers and the hull world seemin' to be left to the mercy of the bloody fiend, War.
"'As I comes crashin' along through them beech boughs, it inculcates a misonderstandin' among the dogs. Andrew Jackson, Thomas Benton an' the others is convoked about that tree on a purely coon theery. They expects me to knock the coon down to 'em. They shorely do not expect me to come tumblin' none myse'f.
But th' shopkeepers an' th' ale-heawses are in for it as ill as ony mak. There'll be crashin' amung some on 'em afore lung." After this, I spent a few minutes in the market-place, which was "slacker" than usual, as might be expected, for, as the Scotch proverb says, "Sillerless folk gang fast through the market."
They yanks down the Wells-Fargo chest, pulls off the letter bag, accepts a watch an' a pocket-book from the gent inside, who's scared an' shiverin' an' scroogin' back in the darkest corner, he's that terror-bit, an' then they applies a few epithets to Old Monte an' commands him to pull his freight. An' Old Monte shorely obeys them mandates, an' goes crashin' off up the canyon on the run.
The ball went crashin' through his skull into his brain, and he went down. Crop knew what that meant. He didn't wait to run down the log, but leaped to the ground, and had his teeth in the animal's throat before the echoes of my rifle were done dancin' around among the mountains. I loaded my gun before I came down, thinkin' maybe there might be another bad tempered moose about, but there wasn't.
I was standin' by the upturned roots of a tall fir tree that had been blown down, and in fallin' had lodged in a crotch of a great birch, maybe twenty feet from the ground, and broke off. I stepped onto the butt of the fallen spruce, and was takin' my time to clean my gun, when I heard a crashin' among the brush on the other side of the ridge, as if some mighty big animal was comin' my way.
"Vases!" says Gerald, scowlin' at a shelf. "Silly vases!" And with that he ups with a chair, swings it over his shoulder, and mows down a whole row of 'em. They goes crashin' onto the floor. "Muh Gord!" gasps the dumpy tea juggler. "Clean alley! Set 'em up on the other!" I sings out. But Gerald is too busy to notice side remarks. His thin face is flushed and his eyes sparkle.
I was jest tellin' myself it sure turned out to be a good thing he didn't have any Chinks aboard at the time, 'cause they might've lost the number o' their mess in the racket I'm willin' to stop the yeller boys from crashin' Unc' Sam's gates, but I don't crave the job o' sendin' the poor dicks along to their worshipped ancestors, not me."
Away you goes arter de bees and butterflies an' tings like mad ober de hills an' far away troo de woods, across de ribbers sometimes into 'em! crashin' an' smashin' like de bull in de china-shop, wid de proud feelin' bustin' your buzzum dat you're advancin' de noble cause ob science dat's what you call 'im, `noble? yes. I do lub science!
And here only yesterday Crosby comes crashin' into the Corrugated general offices, pounds me enthusiastic on the back, and announces that I'm the best friend he's got in the world. "Meanin', I expect," says I, "that Miss Stribble and you have been gettin' on?" "Old man," says Crosby, his mild blue eyes sparklin', "she's a wonderful girl wonderful! And within a week she's going to be Mrs.
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