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Updated: July 7, 2025
He had heard the old man speak, and there had been a huskiness about his voice. "Now there is paw, Bishop you know he ain't jes like you he don't see so far. He might not understan' it. Would you mind jes' droppin' him a line, you know? I'll take it to him in case he looks at the thing differently, you know, fur whut you write will go a long way with him."
They lay their pale faces on the grass, they throw their happy little hearts onto the kind, patient heart of their first mother, Nature, and she soothes the fever in their little breasts, and gives 'em new and saner idees. They hold their little hands under the crystal water droppin' forever from the outspread wings of a dove.
"No go," said Jack, "he's lost in the crowd. He may be far enough away by now." Buck's look of wonder and surprise was striking to behold. "See here, Jack," he said, laying his hand on his companion's arm. "How in thunder do you come to know Saya Chone, and jump on him at sight like a hawk droppin' on a chicken?" "You know him, Buck?" cried Jack. "You know his name?"
First godliness, and then cleanliness. The way the Esquimos tell their age is to have a bag with stuns in it for years. Every year in the middle of summer they drop a stun in. How handy that would be for them who want to act young why jest let the summer run by without droppin' the stun in, or let a hole come sort o' axidental in the bag, and let a few drop out. But, then, what good would it do?
That's right, stick to the moccasins. Gee! That coat is sure wrinkled, an' it fits you a mite too swift. Just peck around at your vittles. If you eat hearty you'll bust through. And if them women-folks gets to droppin' handkerchiefs, just let 'em lay. Don't do any pickin' up. Whatever you do, don't."
In and out we goes, east and west and up and down; now losin' sight of the yellow taxi altogether, then pickin' it up again; droppin' behind a whole block when the traffic broke bad for us, but makin' it up when something got in the way of the other cab. Our gears was hummin' a reg'lar tomcat chorus, but with the throttle wide open the motor was hittin' on four most of the time.
An' another open the trunk, O, see here, Jim; see what a mine of money we foun' for General Veach, as he tuck up a han'ful of gole an' silver money an' sif it through his fingers, droppin' in the trunk, sayin', 'Ain't we got a pile o' money for gov'ment. An' he han' it over to a sojer to tote to the gunboat.
Walkin' up to the step-ladder for a closer view I has to stop and let out a chuckle. It's Hartley. "Well, well!" says I. "So you did have to crawl back, eh?" "Eh?" says he, almost droppin' a pail of white paint. "Why, hello, Torchy!" "I see you're workin' for a real boss now," says I. "Who do you mean?" says he. "The old man," says I, grinnin'. "Not much!" says Hartley.
There it stood, like as if it'd pulled up alongside the pool for the very purpose to unload these unfort'nit' men; an' yet takin' no notice whatever. Not a sign o' the guard not a head poked out anywheres in the line o' windows only the sun shinin', an' the steam escapin', an' out o' the rear compartment this procession droppin' out an' high-divin' one after another. "Eight of 'em!
"I expect the mercury ain't droppin' exactly for nothin', therefore, as you says, we'd better be makin' ready for what's in store for us." Then, facing forward, he gave the order: "Clew up your royal and t'garns'l, furl 'em, and then get the yards down on deck. Hurry, you scallywags; the more work you does now, the more time for play will you have a'ter breakfast."
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