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"I ain't been sayin' much 'bout him one way or 'nother but I been doin' a heap o' steddyin'." "Yas, I knows all 'bout dat too," snapped Aunt Dilsey. "I got eyes in my haid. You los' yore taste fur dis yere big-talkin', fine-lookin' man jes ez soon ez he started sparkin' round dat tore-down limb of a 'Phelia Stubblefield.
You had time enough. But not you. You just stood there like a bump on a log and let him hit you. Yo're a fine-lookin' example of a two-legged man, you are. If you ain't careful, Bull, some two-year-old infant is gonna come along and spit in yore eye." "He was so damn quick," alibied Bull. "I wasn't expectin' it."
That is, as how, roundin' out what I know about him, he's got a eye for a fine-lookin' lady. Which, against argyment, I maintain that Terry Temple girl is." "Guy Little," cried Packard sharply, "you're a fool! Maybe you know all there is about motor-cars an' gasoline. When it comes to females you're a fool."
He reined Chinook round. He saw a tiny figure far to the south. Half in joke he waved his sombrero. Sundown, who had glanced back from time to time, saw the salute and answered it with a sweeping gesture of his lean arm. "And now," he said, "I got the whole works to meself. That Concho guy is a mighty fine-lookin' young fella, but he don't look like Billy.
Well, I was drivin' back slow when up rode a feller on horseback. He was a fine-lookin' man 'bout fifty year old, I reckon, an' was dressed in all them new-fangled ridin' togs. 'Ain't this Mr. Crow, my old friend, the detective? said he. 'Yes, sir, said I. 'I guess you don't remember me, says he. I told him I did, but I lied.
He looked at her through the smoke wreaths. "Shay, lil' girl, we mightish well make bes' of it. You ain't such bad-lookin' girl, y'know. Not half bad. Can't come up to Nell, though. No, can't do it! Well, I should shay not! Nell fine-lookin' girl! F i n ine. You look damn bad longsider her, but by y'self ain't so bad. Have to do anyhow. Nell gone. On'y you left. Not half bad, though."
That girl's the kind that a young husband just goes crazy to give things to! She's pretty and fine-lookin', and things look nice on her, and I guess she'd like to have 'em about as well as the next. And I guess she isn't gettin' many these days, either, and she'll be pretty ready for the change.
'Tis betther thin th' Polis Gazette, an' near as thrue. Well, Jawn, this here young man come fr'm a gr-eat gin'ral, a fine-lookin' la-ad that had manny a mash in his day, an' niver lost money be wan iv thim. Ye'll find all about him in Casey's 'Histhry iv English Misrule in Ireland: Th' Story iv a Crime. 'Tis good readin'. "Th' la-ad's father marrid a rich woman. So did his uncle.
Don't worry till the time comes, Anderson." "That's jest the point. She's lived in New York an' she's got used to it. She's got fine idees; even her clothes seem to fit different. Now, do you s'pose that fine-lookin' girl with all her New York trimmin's 's goin' to hang 'round a fool little town like this? Not much!
Goin' be big dinnuh-potty, an' thishere blue-vein fam'ly tell Fanny they want whole lot extry sploogin'; tell her put fine-lookin' cullud man stan' by drawin'-room do' ask ev'ybody name an' holler out whatever name they say, jes' as they walk in. Thishere fam'ly say they goin' show what's what, 'nis town, an' they boun' Fanny go git 'em a 'nouncer.
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