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Updated: June 25, 2025
Kells was sitting upon a rock near the fire with a cup of coffee in his hand. He was looking better. When he greeted Joan his voice sounded stronger. She walked by Pearce and Frenchy and Gulden on her way to the brook, but they took no notice of her. Bate Wood, however, touched his sombrero and said: "Mornin', miss." Joan wondered if her memory of the preceding night were only a bad dream.
"Yes, but it was a lark, and you sent me here to be ketched." "Now, hark at him, gents; did you ever hear such a wooden image of a man as that? Why, it were Frenchy sent you to bully the lads at the wheel, warn't it?" "Well, I won't tell a lie," panted the man, "it were, but I arn't been able hardly to breathe." "It was all a mistake, my lad," said Mr Frewen; "but we've re-taken the ship."
I knew you were French on account of the fleur-de-lis on the end of your flagpole " "And ze button yess?" the old man urged, interrupting him. Tom told him the whole story of Frenchy and the Leteurs, and of how he had come by his little talisman. "I have fought in zat regiment," the old man said, "many years before you are born. I have seen Alsace lost yess.
He tells ye to yer teeth that it was yer beautiful self putt the exthra button into the bag, yez did it, Misther Laygrow, and nobody else." "Liar!" vociferated the Frenchman, with a menacing gesture. "Liar!" "Kape cool, Frenchy. It isn't Larry the Galwayman that's goin' to be scared at yer blusther. I repate, it was you yourself that putt that button into the bag."
He'd forgit to charge 'em, he'd be so busy listenin'. "Well, there was two ol' soaks that got around him to grubstake 'em. They worked it all one year. They'd git a burro load of grub and go out somewheres and peck around till it was all et up, and then they'd come back an' tell Frenchy some wild tale about runnin' acrost what looked like the richest prospect in the country.
Yu cross-eyed lump of hypocrisy!" yelled Frenchy, dusting off the flour with one full-armed swing on the cook's face, driving it into that unfortunate's nose and eyes and mouth. "Yu white-washed Chink, yu rub yore face with water an' yu've got pancakes." "Hey! What you doin'!" yelled the cook, kicking the spot where he had last seen Frenchy. "Don't yu know better'n that!"
As Frenchy Donahue remarked: "It's bad enough to have a banshee tick-tocking around the place; but that tidy little bunch of cylinders would have made a lot more noise if they had been exploded." But the matter was serious. The captain took the opportunity to lecture the entire ship's company regarding foolish rumors and gossip.
Even in his most affectionate moments, he used to contradict everybody, and hunt up ways of annoying his relatives. "Come here, you false prophet," he would say to Julio. "You are a Frenchy." The grandchild protested as though he had been insulted. His mother had taught him that he was an Argentinian, and his father had suggested that she also add Spanish, in order to please the grandfather.
"Is anything the matter?" came in a loud whisper. "Oh lor'! Here I goes," groaned Bob Hampton. "No, no; it's all right," I whispered. "That was only Mr Preddle." "I thought it was Frenchy, sir." "Hush! No, nothing wrong. Help come," whispered Mr Frewen. "Wait!" Then coming back to the window "Now, Hampton, what can you suggest?" "Well, sir, I've been thinking that if you gents Pst!"
The Senor Manager would refuse, and soon after Madariaga would rush in in a furious temper, but measuring his words, nevertheless, remembering that his son-in-law's disposition was as serious as his own. "I like you very much, my son, but here no one overrules me. . . . Ah, Frenchy, you are like all the rest of your countrymen!
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