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Updated: May 14, 2025
"Perfectly absurd!" snorts Auntie, retirin' haughty to the bay window. "Disqualified!" says I, under my breath. "Might as well go the limit, Snoodlekins. We'll have to grow up in our own crude way." That was the state of affairs when this Mrs. Proctor Butt comes crashin' in on the scene of our strained domestic relations. Trust her to appear at just the wrong time. Mrs.
At this point Willie caught Miss Ward gazing intently at him over the top of her slate, so he threw her into violent confusion by winking at her. "No, boy, I can't make you a fireman. Strange wish why d'you want to be one?" "'Cause it's such jolly fun," replied Willie; with real enthusiasm, "reg'lar bangin' crashin' sort o' work as good as fightin' any day! An' my brother Frank's a fireman.
"I thought the artillery would tear the foundations out of the whole State of Tennessee, the way it let into them. There won't ba more crashin' an' bangin' when the world breaks up. I'd a-bin willin' to serve 100 years just to see that sight. Lord, what a chance the cannoneers had. First time I ever wanted to be in the artillery.
Honest even now I often get off my hoss just to tumble a big stone over a precipice, en' watch it drop, en' listen to it bang an' boom. I've started some slides in my time, an' don't you forget it. I never seen a rock I wanted to roll as bad as this one! Wouldn't there jest be roarin', crashin' hell down that trail?" "You'd close the outlet forever!" exclaimed Venters. "Well, good-by, Lassiter.
After being lonesome for a month or so they begun fillin' their 20 odd bedrooms with guests of their own choosin'. Course, some of 'em that I saw arrivin' looked a bit rummy, but it was plain the Zoscos didn't intend to bank on the neighbors for company. Maybe they didn't want us crashin' in either, as Mr. Robert suggests. You couldn't worry Mrs. Robert with hints like that, though.
Cattle an' calves they passes up as too bellicose, an' none of 'em ever faces any anamile more warlike than a baby colt or mebby a half-grown deer. I'm ridin' along the Caliente once when I hears a crashin' in the bushes on the bluff above two hundred foot high, she is, an' as sheer as the walls of this yere tavern.
"Excuse us for crashin' in on a party," says I. "We came over with the idea that maybe Polly and Dot would be kind of lonesome." "Lonesome!" says Stanley. "Say, I ask you, do they look it?" "Not at the present writing," says I. That was statin' the case mild, too.
Hold up, horse! roared he, as his horse now went starring up to the knees through a long sheet of ice, squirting the clayey water into his rider's face. 'Hold up! repeated he, adding, 'I'm dashed if one mightn't as well be crashin' over the Christial Palace as ridin' over a country froze in this way!
"Now be good," says I, "and you may be happy. Also get busy." You see, I figured that what she didn't know she couldn't worry about, nor discuss with Auntie. Besides, it was all too hazy in my head for me to sketch it out very clear to anyone. Honest, I don't see now how I kept from gettin' things bugged, for I sure was crashin' ahead reckless.
Slung his gun one way 'n' split th' bush runnin' th' other, leapin' deadfalls 'n' crashin' through tangles so fast I had t' run him 'bout fifty acres t' get t' cotch 'n' stop him. "That feller was with us jest about ten days longer, but he never got time t' tell us jest what he thought was follerin' him or what was goin' t' happen if he got cotched.
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