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We come in here to find uncle Robert so's he could tell mother not to kill poor Crip, an' now we can't find him, an' an' well, we're jest two as lonesome fellers as you ever saw, an' if you knew jest how we did feel you wouldn't stand there pokin' fun at us."
"Not for three men doing six men's work and hampered by a cripple." "Aw, ye're no crip, Hozy," dissented Tim. "Any guy that can steer a tub like this here one-handed after losin' a couple gallons o' juice is in good shape yet, I'll say. If ye had both legs shot off and yer arms broke and yer head stove in, now, ye might call yourself sort o' helpless.
What would be said of the rising barrister who, now-a-days, on his marriage with a rich squire's rich daughter and a peer's niece, should propose to set up his household gods in a tiny crip just outside Lincoln's Inn gate, and to use the parlor of the 'very small house' for professional purposes?
Although she knew what to expect, from her lover's descriptions and from her own knowledge of "Old Crip," which she had seen many times, she caught her breath in amazement as she stood up and looked about the brilliantly-lighted interior of the great sky-rover. It was a sight such as had never before been seen upon earth.
Hardy was so busily engaged in her work of making mince pies that she did not notice the sorrow on Dan's face. "Why not? He's only a goose, and gray. We've got to have one, and Crip is the fattest." "But mother, I couldn't have poor Crippy killed. He an' I do love each other so much." "Now don't be foolish about a goose, Danny. Come help me stem these raisins."
Matt Gleason, the Oro foreman, says he'll give her to any Moonstoner that can stay on her two minutes." "He said 'Moonstoner' particular?" queried Williams. "He did. To me. I was over tryin' to buy her." "You're plumb loco. So he said any Moonstoner eh? Any Moonstoner. By crip, I've a notion Let's see, there's Miguel he's too swift.
Mills examined it carefully, silently, for some time. Then he nodded his head. "Not bad; rather clever. Who did it; you?" "No, I couldn't if I was to be killed. Sydney Burr did it. Maybe you've seen him. A cripple; goes around on a tricycle." "Yes, I've seen the boy. But does he has he played?" "Never; he's been a crip all his life." Mills opened his eyes in astonishment.
"I'll tell you what we'll do, Crip," he said as he gave the goose a handful of corn, contenting himself with half a biscuit he had taken from the supper-table the night previous. "We'll walk right along till we see uncle Robert, or some of the folks. It's the day before Thanksgiving, you know, an' some of 'em will be sure to be out buyin' things."
Non, non, I don't mak' no mo'. Po' Tante Marie get too ol'. Didele? She's one lil' gal I 'dopt. I see her one day in de strit. He walk so; hit col' she shiver, an' I say, 'Where you gone, lil' gal? and he can' tell. He jes' crip close to me, an' cry so! Den I tak' her home wid me, and she say he's name Didele. You see dey wa'nt nobody dere.
To Neil he called him "the crip," but when in Sydney's presence was careful never to say anything to wound the boy's feelings an act of consideration rather remarkable for Paul, who, while really kind at heart, was oftentimes careless about the sensibilities of others. This afternoon Paul was evidently downcast, too downcast to be even cross.
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